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A REALISTIC NOVEL. 



Price 25 Cents, 




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Copyrighted 1892, by Gus Miller. 


Is Marriage a Failure? 


y 

/ 

BY GUS MILLER, 

Author of “ The Western Beauty f '•'■Lucy Dalton^ the 
L^'emale Detective f Etc. 


The human heart — the harp that breathes in softest notes the delicious 
strains of harmonious love — is the most delicate and sensitive organ in the en- 
tire system of man’s susceptible nature; so, when the velvet touch of woman’s 
hand is felt no more upon its vibrating chords, set to congenial love, there is a 
palling, a gloomy silence. No other woman can enter the deserted sanctuary 
and reproduce what has been wasted upon the arid soil of another’s heartless- 
ness. 

— Tjik Autiiou. 


CHATTANOOGA, TENN.: 

R E P U H L I C A N PRINTING 

1892. 







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‘ • 


18 MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 


CHAPTER I. 


What female beauty but an air divine, 

Through which the mind’s all gentle graces shine ? 

They, like the sun, irradiate all between ; 

The body charms because the soul is seen. 

Hence men are often captives of a face. 

They know not why, of no peculiar grace. 

Some forms, though bright, no mortal man can bear; 

Some, none resist, though exceeding fair. 

— Young. 

I have gazed on many a brighter face. 

But ne’er on one for years. 

Where beauty left so soft a trace 
As it had left on hers. 

— Mrs Welby. 

“ This is a dreary, empty world, with its confusion 
and bitter disappointments,” soliloquized Norman 
Wellington, as he meditatively sauntered along one 
of the principal thoroughfares of Nashville. “I am 
growing weary of this turmoil. I need rest,” he con- 
tinued, with little connection in his thoughts, as he 
fastened his thumbs in his vest sleeves ; lowering his 
eyes upon the pavement with a still deeper medita- 
tive air, “ I am not doing any good here in this 
bustling city with its rumbling tide of business; well, 
there is little money to be made here, but a fellow 
had as well be in Halifax as just to be doing half-well. 
Perseverance and determination will assuredly wear 
away the crust of opposition, and the royal letters of 
success will yet crown my efforts with triumph. No, 
I will not leave Nashville this year, but, with a more 
attentive watch upon my business, I will strive to at- 
tain the goal of my life.” With this new resolution 
adopted in the convention of his mind, he dropped 
his hands from his vest sleeves and hastened his step 
in the direction of his store. 


4 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


It was early in the morning and there were only 
a few people upon the streets. The shop hands and 
clerks of every department had gone to their work an 
hour ago. A few straggling dudes and idle curiosity 
gazers were languidly moping along, giving them- 
selves full swing as they drifted from first one side of 
the pavement to the other. 

Norman Wellington, inspired by new hopes, gave 
his eyes wide range as he advanced rapidly up Market 
street. Just as he reached its termination and was on 
the eve of turning at right angles, two beautiful 
women, of stately height and graceful carriage, issued 
from a confectionery store at his side. He paused in 
dumb astonishment, as his eyes searchingly swept 
across their faces. “What a perfect coincidence,” he 
involuntarily exclaimed to himself. “Two women 
alike, and yet they have made a distinct impression 
upon my mind,” he thought, as he followed them in 
the direction of his own store. They did not stop. 
He felt a little disappointed, but would not acknowl- 
edge it to himself. 

After an hour’s consuHation with his head sales- 
man, he left the office, and, with arms folded upon his 
breast, walked to and fro the one hundred and fifty 
feet building; he was trying to review the two past 
years of his business life in a way that he might profit 
by his own experience. But in the midst of his most 
absorbing meditations that face, not an hour old, 
would rise up in his mind’s eye, 

‘‘A form of life and light 

That, seen, became a part of sight, 

And rose, wherever he turned his eye, 

The morning star of memory,” 

consuming all the nourishment of thought. This was 
something marvelously strange in his life, because he 
was intensely practical, thoroughly concentrative in 
one purpose, bending all the will power of his nature 
in one way, permitting none of the varied fantasies 
and pleasures of a large city to detract his mind into 
other channels. His sole object was to make money, 
and here the united forces of a concentrated mind had 


IS MAIIKIAGE A FAILURE? 5 

worked with unceasing energy, slowly but surely cut- 
ting the way through various opposing obstacles until 
his success and industry had won for him a fair rating 
in business circles. 

On this morning a feeling of deep depression 
o’ershadowed him ; for a while the goal of his life, 
viewed from his present condition, was shrouded in 
densest mist ; he seriously contemplated seeking new 
fields for work; but now to him, as to us all, hope’s 
siren voice whispered and his feelings regained their 
wonted buoyancy. 

Though Norman Wellington was prepossessing 
in appearance, entertaining and rather brilliant in 
conversation, he had never been a devotee of society, 
though a love for the ideal was largely developed in 
his phrenological outlines; he had confined his study 
to a minute — instead of a general-t-analysis of the 
problem embracing man’s temporal success. He was 
a confirmed recluse from everything that did not em- 
body money, living exclusively within the predomi- 
nating. love of his own life, regulating the minor ten- 
dencies to the realms of non-consideration. So when 
he realized that his mind had been susceptible to an 
impression, however vague, which his strong will 
power refused to eliminate from memory, he became 
restless and a little dispossessed. Staring out into the 
street, an indefinable light and expression radiating 
from his eyes, yet nothing was more foreign to his 
idea than love or any of its baser or kindred subjects. 
He ever contended that his mind was too sensible and 
practical to even learn the first lesson in anything so 
Utopian as what the world designated — love. 

Norman Wellington, as yet, had never been under 
the sway of anything so near akin to sentimentality 
as on this eventful day, when, at short intervals, his 
mind in an unguarded moment wandered back to 
those faces he met on the street. 

In spite of his own rigid protestation, his heart 
would assert : “There is something indefinable in 
that face, bearing a vague resemblance to some vision- 
ary conception of my innate faculties.” Still he 


6 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


would not listen to the strong intimtation that came 
up from within, preferring to let his bark remain 
launched upon ‘the broad and ample bosom of useful 
life, rather than follow the uncertain call of some 
unknown and chimerical god. 

He was just preparing to go out on the street to 
look for some country customers, whom he was 
expecting in the city on that day, when Richard 
Allen, a prominent officer in a wealthy banking con- 
cern, appeared in the door. Norman could always 
pose himself with ease and dignity before a financial 
magnate, and never neglected an opportunity to ex- 
change ideas with them. He now met Mr. Allen in 
the door with a hearty shake of the hand, followed 
by a pressing invitat’on to go with him back into the 
“ office,” where they could get comfortable chairs. 
Mr. Allen thanked the young merchant as he extended 
his arm. 

When they had thrown themselves luxuriously 
into some handsome office chairs, Norman observed 
with some little feeling of importance, “ Business a 
little cramped, I see from today’s financial report. 
Money tight, and merchants’ paper at a great depre- 
ciation.” 

“ A gloomy outlook indeed ; however, I do not 
give much of my time to these heavy, monotonous 
subjects now. To tell you the truth, Wellington, my 
fortune, as you know, is already made. When I was 
a young man like yourself, starting out in the world 
with only a few thousands, I kept very conversant on 
these topics,” responded the banker with an air of 
great superiority. 

Norman became enraptured when he heard a rich 
man talk, rendering himself totally blind to all the 
faults the speaker might possess. So when Richard 
Allen referred to his present independent circum- 
stances, he wondered how long ere his condition in 
life would render him independent and call out his 
n a me upon the roll of (as he believed) imperishable 
fame. 

“ What is the present outlook in Nashville for 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


7 

fall and winter trade?” catechised the young mer- 
chant, ^determined to avail himself of all the practical 
fhformation he could during this time of Convenience. 

“ I believe our last report spoke favorably of the 
future for the South,” briefly stated Mr. Allen, 

“ When money is stringent in the Eastern mar- 
kets there is usually a corresponding depression of 
results throughout the South ; but I believe there is 
no rule so general but what there is sometimes an 
exception,” responded Norman, inclined to enter into 
a detailed discussion of the subject. But he had yet 
to learn the true character of the man with whom he 
so eagerly conversed ; he had yet to learn that there 
was more in this life to live for than sordid gold. 

“ It is a very diflicult matter for us to .always de- 
termine what the future will be. I am inclined to 
think that money-making is all a game of chance,” 
replied Mr. Allen evasively. 

“Do all rich men entertain similar ideas to yours, 
as to how a man gets wealthy?” asked Norman, dis- 
posed to question the truth of Mr. Allen’s opinion. 

“You cannot find any class of men who have the 
same views on the same subjects. But, Wellington, 
this money-making business has ceased to be a living 
thought with me now.” 

“Your aspirations have been gratified, I pre- 
sume,” rejoined Norman. 

“ Entirely, sir. I shall only give that part of my 
attention to the subject necessary to retain what I 
have, without making any additional accumulation.” 

“Then your life is about over,” continued Nor- 
man. 

“Just begun. Real life begins when we are 
placed by virtue of our circumstances above the real 
hardships of this world.” 

“That is a novel position to me,” asserted Mr. 
Wellington. 

“Ha! ha!” laughed the conceited banker. 
“ When you are as old in years and experience as I am 
you will want to pass your life away from the monoto- 
nous routine of useful employment. I have a large 


$ IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

fortune, Wellington, and after a few years I antici- 
pate to enjoy it. You see I am not an old man ; only 
two score and five ; besides, I am remarkably well 
preserved. There is no reason why I should not 
travel — spend my summers cruising on the northern 
lakes or rambling o’er the mountains of Switzerland. 
My winters pass beneath the sunny skies of the south- 
ern zone.” 

If Norman Wellington had been the man he was 
five years later in his life, he would have defined the 
shallow depths of Richard Allen’s character with 
mathematical accuracy. But his inordinate desire to 
be wealthy made every man a peer who had money. 

Before he could reply, Mr. Allen sprang to his 
feet, looked* up the long aisle toward the door, where 
he heard the soft notes of a woman’s voice. “Wel- 
lington,” he exclaimed, “ there is my wife ; come and 
get acquainted with her; she will make you a splen- 
did customer. A customer who always has the cash 
to pay down is worth two who promise to pay tomor- 
row and never pay at all.” 

Mr. Allen’s nature was thoroughly saturated with 
vanity and conceit, and upon every occasion he 
sought an opportunity in which to make it known. 
‘He was totally destitute of those higher instincts of 
true manhood, such as stability of character, firmness 
of purpose and concentration of energy (except in a 
certain way). 

Without looking in the direction of the lady who 
was talking, Norman followed the banker to the front 
counter. As they approached it he heard a musical 
voice exclaim in modest astonishment : “Why, are 
you here? We were in hopes we would elude you 
this morning, as we have some heavy bills to make.” 
There was something in the clear, sweet intonation 
that aroused Norman’s soul to a thoughtful surprise. 
When he involuntarily held out his hand to meet the 
white, shapely one offered him, his eyes once more 
beamed upon the beautiful face that had so startled 
him in the morning. 

“And this is our sister. Miss Iris Earle,” contin- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 


9 


lied Mr, Allen as he completed the introduction. 

“We are having some lovely weather,” observed 
Norman to Miss Earle, not knowing anything better 
with which to preface his remarks. 

“ It is very delightful in the country, where the 
atmosphere is’wholesome ; but I think it a little too 
warm to be comfortably pleasant in the city,” she re- 
plied with a smile upon her lips. 

“ Sister has remarked, on one or two occasions 
this morning, her want of love for the city,” said Mrs. 
Allen, as a soft Eugh rippled over her lips, disclosing 
her pearly teeth so pure and perfect. 

“ She was under the influence of the heat then,” 
responded Norman. 

“ Iris has ever been partial towards the country,” 
explained Mr. Allen. 

“ I have never been out at Rosedale, but if it is 
as beautiful as represented, I am not surprised at Miss 
Earle’s choice,” rejoined Mr. Wellington. 

“ I would almost prefer a hut in the country to a 
palace in the city. Not that I do not appreciate soci- 
ety, but I like freedom — that pure atmosphere which 
only a person can breathe who lives in the rural dis- 
tricts,” asserted Iris, manifesting a strong degree of 
positiveness. 

After a few minutes conversation the ladies 
began their shopping. Mr. Allen departed, saying he 
had some important matters to attend to that morn- 
ing. Norman, for some unknown cause to himself, 
kept his position near Mrs. Allen, but without pro- 
longing the conversation. He was much surprised, 
and without any reason, that either one of the ladies 
were married. 

Lois Allen and Iris Earle never looked more 
exquisitely beautiful than on this May morning, when 
the air was resonant with new life, and the sun, kiss- 
ing the skylight, threw his mellowed rays in subdued 
profusion upon this wilderness of goods, reflecting a 
still softer light upon the velvety complexion of their 
lovely faces, whose delicately tinted hue rivaled the 
soft petals of a blush rose. 


to IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

Norman’s soul, until now blind to the luring 
grace of female beauty, opened its eyes, while its sur- 
prised voice sang : 

“ The fairness of her face no tongue can tell, 

For she the daughters of all women’s race 
And angels eke, in beauty doth excel. 

Sparkled on her from God’s own glorious face. 

And more increast by her own goodly grace 
That doth far exceed all human thought, 

Ne, can on earth compared be to naught.” 

Though to his rational judgment he would not 
have confessed he thought her pretty. Again, he 
would question his inner self : “Why can I not keep 
my eyes away from her ! I do not look at Miss Earle, 
and they seem just alike. Ah ! it is a freak of the 
imagination. There is nothing in the whole affair. 
When they pass out of that door they pass out of my 
life, old habits will be resumed and I will not think 
of them again. But she is supremely beautiful — that 
is if the term is an admissible one. Well, beauty is 
all a mistake, any way ? it is nothing more than the 
effect of a perverted imagination; still there is an 
indefinable expression beaming from under those 
silken lashes that fastens me into her presence as 
insensibly as the mystery of magic. But I must leave 
off this worse than nonsense ! ” 

He walked back into the office on some shallow 
pretense, though he owned no excuse save to elude 
the presence of her who exercised such a strange mag- 
netic power over him. As he turned to go away, a 
pair of soft brown eyes shyly followed him. Some 
one else had been peculiarly impressed. Soon the 
echo of their departing steps was borne to his ears ; 
involuntarily rising from his seat he retraced his steps 
to the front counter. 

“ Mr. W ellington, you will owe me a valuable 
present when I get married,” observed the clerk who 
had waited upon the ladies. 

“ How is that? ” queried the young merchant. 

“ I have sold the largest cash bill of the season, 
and I guarantee to the prettiest women that have 
been in the store this year,” he answered. 


is MARRIAGE A FAILURE? It 

“ That should recompense you, then ; but for my 
part I don’t ever see much difference in the appear- 
ance of women,” replied Norman. 

“ Did I understand that old braggadocio banker 
to introduce one of them to you as his wife? ” 

Norman bowed his head, adding, “That is Rich- 
ard Allen, one of the wealthiest men in the state.” 

“Yes, I knew he was, and also that, outside of 
his money, he is not respected except by the rabble 
and the menial classes. He has no moral aim in life, 
and the motives of his mind are the ripe effects of 
degeneracy. Those ladies had the outward appear- 
ance of being inwardly his superiors.” 

“ Well, so a man has money, that procures all the 
other necessaries of this life,” interrupted Norman. 

“ I think you are mistaken upon that point ; but, 
back to the ladies. Did you ever see such a remarka- 
ble coincidence? Two persons the exact counterpart 
of each other ; as much alike as if they had the same 
individuality. I scrutinized them closely, and one is 
identically the same in expression as the other. Surely 
they could make a fortune out of their remarkable 
resemblance.” 

By this time every idle clerk had joined the two 
speakers, and were nOw adding their mite of infor- 
mation on the subject discussed. 

Mrs. Allen and her sister rarely ever went into 
society together, but. when they did, never failed to 
produce an endless commotion of wonderment. Their 
personal appearance would not meet an universal ap- 
plause for beauty. But what beauty failed to radiate 
from their faces is best expressed by the poet : 

“ But that which fairest is, but few behold. 

Their minds adorned with virtues manifold.” 

Though they had access to all that money would 
command, they never dressed gorgeously or extrava- 
gantly; their plain, simple style of dress beautifully 
typified the inward grace of manners and purity of 
heart which each possessed. 

On this morning Lois wore a handsomely fitting 
costume of gray nuns-veiling made plainly, only a few 

a6 


T3 IS MARRIAGE A FAIRITRE? 

plaits and panels relieving the monotony of the front 
view. The soft folds fell around her lithe form, 
revealing her stately beauty with artistic effect. 
Snowy linen bands encircled neck and wrist. Her 
hair, black as the wings of night and soft as silken 
down, was coiled in an artistic pouf, on which rested 
a gray hat of English straw, that enhanced the lovely 
proportions of her faultless figure. Her white hand, 
moulded to grace, supported a plain gold band upon 
its first finger, while upon the third scintillated a dia- 
mond of the brightest lustre. The well rounded and 
dimpled wrist was bare of ornament, shaming the 
white cuff' in its fairness. Her front hair lay upon 
her classic brow in jetty ringlets, shading the bright, 
dark eye from which they caught the light, 

“As if their graceful loops were made 
To keep that glorious eye in shade, 

And holier make its tranquil spell, 

Like waters in a shaded well.” 

Her face, of a rich olive tint, was not perfect in 
its symmetry, yet the irregularities were so vaguely 
indistinct when contrasted with the exquisite loveli- 
ness of its expression that none of their traces were 
perceptible. 

Lois Allen was beautiful — divinely beautiful — in 
the soul comprehension of that figure. Iris, her exact 
counterpart, so far as the visible outlines of figure 
and complexion extended, upon this occasion con- 
trasted her appearance by relieving it with a garnet 
costume made of soft, thin material. 

Norman retired to his private office, where ^e 
surrendered his thoughts to abstract meditation. 
When the town clock tolled six, he arose from his 
chair, saying, “ Those eyes hold an image somewhere 
in the locked vaults of memory. But I must not 
think of her again.” With this determination 
momentarily planted in his mind, he walked to the 
door ; after turning the key he bade his numerous 
clerks adieu and walked away in the direction of his 
boarding house, where a gentle, trusting wife sat in 
the second story, peering down upon the pavement, 
eagerly watching for him. 


CHAPTER II. 


NORMAN WELLINGTON AND WIFE. 

Who never doubted, never half believed. 

Where doubt there truth is — ’tis her shadow. 

— Bailey. 

life’s sunniest hours are not without 
The shadow of some lingering doubt. 

— Whittier. 

With only a limited education, Norman Welling- 
ton entered the rugged road of the active worker. 
Cheered by energy and hope, he carelessly surveyed 
the future and lightly considered the responsibilities 
of life. His was one of those natures that men are 
wont to analyze and yet so rarely comprehend cor- 
rectly. Though he so readily grasped the exigencies 
of life, gloomy forebodings, that at times darken the 
pathway of every one, dropped their sombre shadows 
around him. At such periods he was apt to sink de- 
spairingly into despondency, and for weeks after- 
wards traces of sadness were interwoven with every 
expression of his face. His most intimate friends 
never gained an insight into the inward motions of 
his life ; there were certain bounds within which he 
lived which completely concealed his true nature from 
others, challenging — but to baffle — the tried skill of 
the physiognomist. 

His reticence as to his own feelings, interests and 
intentions might have been the result of circum- 
stances attending his early life. It was not in conse- 
quence of lack of confidence in humanity that he 
was not communicative when in the society of his 
best friends ; but it was his disposition to ever keep 
within the confines of his own knowledge the private 
counsel of his owii heart. At the early age of eight 
years he left the home of his parents to live at the 
mercy of friends and relatives. Thus early thrown 
upon self, no wonder that now he denies entrance to 
the secret confines of his soul. The path he wan- 
dered from childhood to manhood was by no means a 


14 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

smooth one ; the hardships, the trials, the temptations 
that line the road of every poor orphan were repeated 
in his struggle for triumph over opposition. 

After his marriage (with limited means and ex- 
perience) he embarked in the mercantile ship ; buoy- 
ant with hope, the shining coast of wealth seemed 
attainable. Confining himself closely to business, he 
made it a limited success. He never advised with or 
sought the counsel of any one ; his ambition was to 
make money ; his god, his pleasure were in the con- 
test for success. He respected every wish of his wife, 
but the heart that, since his conjugal life, had wor- 
shipped business, had never given itself to’ the enjoy- 
ment of any woman’s companionship. 

At the peep of dawning day he would rise from 
his couch ; in a few minutes be out on the dusky 
street, hastening to his work. As he passed down 
one street, across to another block, he was not think- 
ing of friends, relatives or wife ; his one consuming 
thought was gold, and it was the charming love for 
gold that gave quickness and elasticity to his steps. 
When the worshipped, the courted spot was reached, 
his pale yet stern face would brighten, the eyes fliat 
viewed the hovels or the five story bricks with such 
little interest, now opened wide with eagerness, and 
a looker-on could see he had reached the home of his 
heart. 

Long before the clerks or porter would arrive, 
the show windows were draped in the most artistic 
folds, and the show stands were in their proper places. 
Long before the chosen bookkeeper would make his 
appearance, the huge ledger and journal had been 
critically examined by an eye that never failed to de- 
tect error ; and if a wrong entrance had been made 
the book-keeper never escaped a sharp reprimand. 

Norman Wellington’s store was his home; though 
young, he cared not for the skating rink, the dancing 
hall, the theater, the gaming tables, or the recreation 
of mingling with the immense crowds that throng 
the hotel corridors ; next to his business was his wife. 
F rom his store he immediately repaired to his own 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 1 5 

apartments in one of the first boarding houses of the 
city, where his kind and affectionate companion was 
ever ready to welcome him with a smile called forth 
by what she deemed love — and which certainly was 
deep respect. 

It was 6 o'clock in the evening after Lois Allen’s 
visit to the store that Norman went home sad and 
wearied with the day’s labor. He did not care for 
any supper, so went to his room, desiring, if possible, 
to seclude himself so as to forget a strange and mys- 
terious feeling of disappointment that seemed to bear 
upon his heart. 

Mrs. Wellington had gone to the dining room, 
but soon returned with the natural query, “Norman, 
why did you not stop for supper?” 

“ I don’t feel like eating supper, Alice,” was the 
brief response. 

“ Why, are you sick ? I suppose some poor fel- 
low has died who owed you a dime, or a teamster fell 
from his wagon, crippling himself, who owed you a 
nickle, and you are grieving foTr the heavy losses you 
must inevitably sustain in consequence of the misfor- 
tune of these poor ones,” she laughingly replied, real- 
izing to the fullest extent his inordinate love of gold. 

“ No, Alice, you do me injustice in your inference 
as to the cause of my not wishing any supper. I am 
not near the disciple of Plutus as you intimate ; yet I 
hope to be wealthy some day; i^is that, hope which 
sharpens my wits and stirs within me the desire to 
live. But unlike the goddess, Fortuna, I am not 
blind. The loss of the insignificant amounts you 
mention would scarcely arrest my appetite.” 

Taking a seat near Norman she apologetically 
replied : “I guess it is in order for me to make 
amends for my impulsive speech. I did not mean to 
reflect on your good name in my supposition. Know- 
ing you are so wedded to your business, it was so 
natural for me to taunt you with something of that 
nature. While I would not apply to you the name 
‘miser,’ yet I would not fear to state that you worship 


l6 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

gold more than your wife. Now, tell me what is the 
matter tonight. Are you sick?” 

“No, Alice, I am not ill ; something affects me 
vv'hich I cannot explain. I do not mean that I with- 
hold any secret from you. I will have emerged from 
my present depressed spirits by morning and will be 
myself again.” 

“ But, Norman, am I not the one who should 
share the burden of your troubles? Am I not your 
wife? According to the first law given to man, your 
helpmeet ?” 

“ Yes, you are my wife; but my troubles are my 
own. You were made the weaker vessel; therefore 
I should bear your troubles, and not you mine. In 
this instance, if the order was vice versa, I would be 
equally as incapable of an explanation as now.” 

“ I do not understand you, Norman. Why can’t 
you explain to me? Are there certain secrets so dear 
that you cannot impart them? Have you hidden 
troubles that I cannot know? You are strange!” 

“ I am strange, in that I do not court the plaudits 
of society. I am strange, in that I love my business 
more than the soft smiles of fair faces. I am strange, 
in that I choose to maintain my individuality by a 
suppression of my true feelings. I am strange, in that 
I am not a good husband. I should never have mar- 
ried if, as I believe, my presence has ceased to be a 
source of pleasure. My faults are so numerous, they 
must provoke reproof. But, Alice, be gentle with 
me ; in time you may teach me to be a man after 
jmur ow'n heart, and cause me to turn from my unso- 
ciable nature and assume one congenial to yours.” 

The persuasive words fell on unheeding ears. In 
an instant Alice Wellington’s soul had revolted and 
claimed perfect trust or none at all; till now the pas- 
sions of her life had slumbered-; unconscious now of 
their awakening, she allowed anger to sweep the 
chords of her being as she replied; “Yes, I might 
have been happy if I had never married you. But I 
cannot compromise my pride by bowing at your feet 
as your slave, in humble submission to your stubborn 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

will, with the faint hope of reclaiming you. No, I 
do not possess the magnetism to work reformation in 
your settled habits. You must ever remain as you 
are, if I am the only means of your salvation. Will 
I ever be happy with you? Did I ever love you?” 

Here Norman mechanically arose from his seat 
and stood at the window, where he pretended to be 
looking out into the street. Suddenly turning to- 
wards his wife, his face pale and worn, he raised his 
hand to his brow and said calmly : “Alice, I don’t 
believe in the existence of what you term — love. 
Poets speak of a never dying love ; they have written 
page after page and book after book in defining love ; 
but how..empty it all seems to me. If I am mistaken 
and the time should ever come when I kneel in hum- 
ble plight before that shrine, it will be at the instiga- 
tion of a law higher than earth. Indeed, if there is 
such a thing as love, it can only implant itself in the 
heart when two have met whom God made one in 
the beginning.” 

“ Stop, Norman,” commanded his wife. “I can- 
not hear you talk of love. You rarely ever do; but 
when you do, you are so inconsistent, you bound from 
one extreme to the other. I sometimes think you do 
not live and enjoy life like other people. You live 
and breathe in a different latitude to them. You have 
a wife, but you had no heart to give her. I have 
often looked upon your calm face, when meditation 
stilled every nerve in your frame, but I have never 
seen a tear of sympathy or regret fall from your eyes. 
Tears come from the heart, not from the eyes. You 
have bright, expressive eyes, but they do not mirror 
your soul. You do not love me, in that you are too 
cruel ; if you ever love a woman, to her you will be 
too kind: you will be her serf, as you would be my 
tyrant. I love you as it is my duty, but I cannot 
always give up to you. I must at least retain my 
identity. I will never harass you by my tenderness 
again. I have been foolish in the past to pain and 
annoy you with whimsical notions of sentiment. 
You have many faults, and I am thankful my eyes 


l8 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

are not blinded with the glamour of love so much 
but what I can see them — faults so perceptible that 
they will furnish my captious mind with sufficient 
stimulance as to guarantee its activity.” 

“Alice,” rejoined Norman gravely, “when the 
time comes that I have nothing to do but dissect your 
natuVe in order to find your faults, that I may use 
them as a means of overcoming the good influences 
you exert over me, then I shall hold my position and 
depravity to be the most self-contemptuous. I have 
the deepest abhorrence and contempt for those who 
cavil at petty faults.” 

Having failed to study her nature, he grasped not 
the passion that now controlled her, and continued; 
“ If I am not like other people in the main, why 
should you remind me of it in such deplorable terms ? 
Did I have the formation and refining process of my 
general character in my hands, or was it the culmina- 
tion of one of God’s foreseen certainties? When you 
insist that I shall literally conform to your idea of 
true manhood, you superiorize yourself with a pre- 
sumption wholly unwarrantable to any one person be- 
longing to frail humanity. Have I -not sweet intui- 
tions, in whose triumphs I revel with as much delight 
as those whose pre-eminence characterizes them 
among the courted public? My concession and con- 
formity to the strict demands and necessities of my 
vocation I conceive to be my whole duty to my de- 
pendencies. 

“ Then until you, my only and chief satellite, 
have failed to receive the vi — condescension, your 
reprimand is a palpable insult to pride and ambition. 
As to my inconsistency, that is easily understood. 
Unless we could occupy the same premises it would 
be quite impossible for us to draw the same conclu- 
sions; facts are not deducible from false premises ; 
our reasoning may be good, when the thing ascer- 
tained may be false ; the erroneous conclusions being 
dependent upon the false premises. For illustration, 
if you and I should go to examine a piece of goods : 
you view it through a pair of green lenses, while I 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 


^9 


look at it through a pair of blue ones, while still a 
third party looks at it with his natural eye. The 
goods appear green to you, and you affirm it. You 
know you are right ; you could not be wrong. They 
appear blue to me, and I affirm it with as much earn- 
estness as you did they were green. But the third 
party, with his premises correct, knows we are both 
wrong ; he only can tell the true color of the goods. 
Might it not be, dear Alice, that you have the wrong 
data from which to reason out metaphysics? 

Your ideas seem to have undergone no real 
change since you emerged from the ephemeral dream 
you call ‘love.’ Then, since these notions of yours 
were formed while you were under ban, might they 
not have been conceived in mental blindness? The 
declaration that you are not blinded by the glamour 
of love admits of only one inference, and that is, ‘all 
who are in love are blind.’ Then, since the blind 
need a leader, might it not be in full accord with 
common law, propriety, and in order to leave no stain 
upon the jewel, consistency, for you to rely upon me 
as your chief counsellor and leader?” 

Exasperated beyond endurance by his clear, 
taunting logic, Mrs. Wellington, with suppressed 
anger and wounded pride, sought retreat by dismissing 
the subject, and added, “Norman, why continue this 
very unpleasant conversation? I am sure neither of 
us will be benefitted by it. Let us endeavor to forget 
and bear with each others faults.” 

“ I am willing to end where you are. You know 
I have never manifested a spirit of contention, so if 
it is your pleasure to let questions upon which we 
cannot agree rest, I will join you.” 

“ I think you misunderstand me. I do not mean 
to relinquish my ideas upon general topics, so much 
that I will have no views to express, because I cannot 
always see things as you do,” she quickly replied ; 
adding, “However, I detest family brawls ; therefore 
I shall never say anything to encourage them. We 
must try to live more for each other.” 

Doubtless Mrs. Wellington would have contin- 


20 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


ued, but a news-carrier appeared at the door with an 
Evening Banner. Mr. Wellington, against his usual 
custom, bought one. As soon as they were alone 
again he remarked, “If I had been myself I would 
have left off buying this paper. You have talked to 
me so much tonight that I have lost my usual com- 
posure. But I will read it ; perhaps I will get the 
worth of it.” 

“ I hope so,” Alice could not refrain from adding, 
sarcastically. 

“Well, here it is, now,” continued Norman as if 
he had not heard his wife’s interruption. “Meeting 
of the stockholders of the First National Bank ; 
Richard Allen elected President.” Dreamily putting 
aside the paper, he said, half unconscious of what he 
was doing, “Mr. Allen and his pretty wife compli- 
mented my store this forenoon by a substantial pur- 
chase.” 

“ Why, Norman,” broke in his wife in half feign- 
ed astonishment, “I never heard you speak of any 
woman as beautiful before. I must see this Mrs. 
Allen. What rare charms of beauty she must possess 
to make so sudden conquest of your stony heart ! 
Who knows but what you will yet fall to the level of 
your sex. 

“ Control yourself, Alice,” he answered, his voice 
betraying less composure than at any previous inter- 
view. “I simply said the lady was pretty,” he con- 
tinued. “I might have said the same of a flower, a 
picture, a piece of architecture, or anything else I ad- 
mire. I have seen nothing on the present occa- 
sion to provoke this ebullition of feeling. Be more 
considerate.” 

“Well, well, Norman,” rejoined his wife, sur- 
prised and interested ; “and really I heard yo\i aright 
before, and it was no lapsus linguae? But you 
really persist in heaping compliments upon the bank- 
er’s wife.” This was said pleasantly ; but a close ob- 
server could have detected a ring of suppressed scorn 
in her voice, of which she was not wholly uncon- 
scious. 


IS MARIHAGE A FAIT.ITRE? 

“ Alice, I do not think you represent me fairly. I 
may not have had occasion prior to this to express my 
views of all my acquaintances. And what if I should 
never have seen a lady before whom I thought a 
model, would that be strange? Might it not be that 
I have not met many ladies in my life who were Mrs. 
Allen’s superiors in every branch of attainment, and 
also that no circumstance attended our meeting to at- 
tract my observation ?” 

With an expression created by curiosity, though 
tinged with doubt, she eagerly questioned : “And am 
I to conclude that some extraordinary phenomenon 
attended your meeting with Mrs. Allen, and fully de- 
veloped your dormant faculties in praise of her beau- 
ty? Truly this age is progressive, and woman divine 
that can elicit com'nendation from such a stoic.” 

“ Again you are wrong in your surmises, Alice. 
Our meeting was very commonplace, and only a few 
words passed between us. As you on a clear, cloud- 
less day feel the coming storm in the sultry air, and 
your soul dons the robe’of physical fear, so my mind, 
when brought into the presence of so much eminence, 
involuntarily opened its gates in recognition, yet 
deigned me no reason for the overflow.” 

Again baffled in her attempt to enter the secret 
chamber of her husband’s mind, she despairingly 
yielded to fate. Slowly she turned from her seat and 
began studiously to arrange some books on a small 
walnut stand that stood near Norman. This done, 
with an attempt at reconciliation, she said : “Let us 
let the matter rest now. I hope we may never have 
cause to resurrect the subject again.” With these 
words she bade her husband good-night. 

It was several hours later when Norman arose 
from his seat and went to the window, where he 
could see the stars as they emerged from the eastern 
horizon. Something in the far-off sky, dotted with 
twinkling constellations, reminded him of the past. 
— the far-off past. This night Norman Wellington’s 
heart was full of sad reflections. For the first time 
during his life he sat down to brood over his troubles 


32 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


and add more to the list. For the first time he felt 
an ungratified longing in his heart ; for what, he knew 
not. Thus he questioned himself : 

“ What have I seen today to make me so unpleas- 
ant and to so vaguely lift the veil of oblivion ? Could 
I forget these unpleasant recurrences? I seem to have 
passed my life in a dream, thinking of nothing but 
money and its equivalents. Tonight my dream has 
vanished ; I have awakened from my long slumber 
and behold behind me an awful wreck.” 

At this point he caught the glow of the rising 
moon. All the world seemed wrapped in the silence 
of sleep. The hour was eleven. The moon beamed 
into the face of the lone meditator. Suddenly, though 
only fora moment, a beautiful vision, whether real or 
the spectre of a distorted imagination, appeared be- 
fore him. Only a moment it pressed the retina of 
vision and then vanished, leaving the beholder a 
graver and more thoughtful man. 


CHAPTER III. 

A CHANGE. 

Wealth has never given happiness, but often hasteneth 
misery. — Tapper. 

Sour discontent that quarrels with our fate, 

May give fresh smart, but not the old abate; 

The uneasy passions, disingenuous wit. 

The ill reveals, but hides the benefit. 

— Sir Richard Blackmore. 

Four years have passed since that eventful day, 
when Norman Wellington became a changed man ; 
changed to himself and to the world. During this 
short period he prospered ; his income increased from 
a pittance to plenty ; no longer he worried excessively 
over business affairs. During this time his wife had 
never spoken of the subject that had so ruthlessly 
torn perfect trust from her heart ; she had no desire to 
resurrect it. She kept a close watch upon him. Why 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


23 

he could forget his cold, calculating designs, step from 
under the immediate cares of his own business, and 
return home — not for social entertainment, anything 
but that — but to read and meditate, was a strangeness 
she could not peaceably reconcile to her mind. 

Although she sometimes fancied her husband’s 
change and indifference the outgrowth of his eccen- 
tricities, yet there was an inward fear that he was un- 
happy ; and whatever might be the cause, she felt it 
was beyond her power to fathom its depths ; and if 
by s6me mysterious revelation she was ever able to 
fathom it, she felt there would be no accessible rem- 
edy by which she could liberate his heart from the 
pangs of regret and sorrow. 

How often we see people in the world who have 
an insight into the true character, motives and affec- 
tions of others, yet in reference to them they are silent, 
no expression ever comes from them to betray their 
observations. Alice Wellington belonged to this class ; 
she had heit-own sorrows and troubles ; but had long 
since schooled herself to bear them without complaint. 
Since the night she avowed to Norman her determina- 
tion not to talk sentiment again to him, she had been 
true to her word. While she did not possess that deep 
and decided love for her husband that is often given, 
yet she respected him and taught herself to believe 
she was ever ready to obey him. 

In her own heart there was a vacancy which her 
husband’s presence and deportment failed to supply. 
Sometimes she pictured a bright future of what 
“might be,” if Norman would but be as kind and at- 
tentive as she desired him to be. Then her mind 
would revert to the first months of their married life, 
when she was petted and given what she deemed a 
husband’s warmest and most affectionate treatment. 
Yet those early days of nuptial life were not cloud- 
less. There was still a void; perfect content did not 
come to her, even then, with what she thought kind- 
est attention from the man she married. If in the 
past, when the heart was tender and susceptible, she 
had failed to appreciate, and had complained bitterly 


24 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

to him for what he conscientiously believed to be his 
solemn and pledged duty, was it not likely the same 
peevishness of character would work out a similar se- 
quence, though she could reach out her arm and bring 
him to her side again ? Then why wish for that 
which when obtained, will be worthless in advancing 
happiness ? 

Alice Wellington unfortunately possessed one of 
those natures that cannot be satisfied by love or 
money. Her nature, complex in its character, con- 
tradictory in its practice, sneered at the possible and 
endeavored to grasp the impossible. Ever ready to 
assert her intentions, she was rarely found prosecuting 
them to their legitimate end. Only of late had she 
learned to seek the plaudits of society ; having been 
reared in a silent country atmosphere, she had lived 
for herself, treasuring up her own thoughts without 
demonstration, and pondering over the fruits of her 
own imagination ; but now her nature had undergone 
a complete and radical transformation. 

Two years prior to this chapter she had persuaded 
Norman to give up their small and scantily furnished 
apartment on Vine street, and seek a home near the 
city in the country ; and, in a very short time, she was 
installed mistress of Elmwood — her present home. 

Just two miles from Nashville, on the W. G. pike, 
nestling in the borders of Elm Forest is unpretentious 
Elmwood. Seen from the road it presented a toy- 
homestead appearance ; a small cottage with only two 
front rooms composed the buildings; the grounds 
were handsomely laid off ; on either side were tall 
and stately elms, whose graceful boughs had withstood 
the storms and shakes of two centuries. 

Seated in the small, balustraded portico was Nor- 
man. He had just returned from the city, where he 
had spent the day in detailing his business to his chief 
man ; he was now devouring the contents of the 
Ba^iner. Mrs. Wellington was out calling ; she had 
been out since i o’clock, so he was informed by his 
trusty servant ; where she was gone or when she would 
return was of but little interest to him. He gave her 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 25 

all the privilege of going and coming that the condi- 
tions of weather and. circumstances would grant. If 
she wanted to do anything or go anywhere he had no 
opposition to offer, or approval to express. 

During the last few years he had become ac- 
quainted with Mr. Allen and wife, and had transacted 
all of his business through the First National Bank. 
Through this a confidential relationship had been 
formed. Although between the two families there 
could be no social intimacy, yet as neighbors they 
recognized each other as acquaintances ; and when 
Mr. Allen or his accomplished and beautiful wife, as 
they often did, vouchsafed to consider Norman and 
Alice with the social honor that was embraced in an 
amicable call, they were always delighted, and felt 
that another plume had been added to their crown. 

While the wealthy banker would not have recog- 
nized, in the royal circles in which he was leader, 
those who did not have by wealth, or otherwise, an 
acknowledged claim upon the privileges of society, 
his gentle wife was kind to all. 

Often Norman sat in the little portico, among the 
vines and flowers, his mind divested of the myriad, 
irregular scenes of the day, meditating with a restless 
and unhappy heart. He thought if he could have just 
such friends as his silent ponderings conjured up, he 
might bathe his troubled mind in the cool and vivify- 
ing spring of contentment. At these musings his 
mind ever reverted to, the warm and genial presence 
of one person. Why it did so, he never questioned. 
That it was love he never dreamed. 

After glancing over the Banner with hurried im- 
patience, he laid it aside, not to think of his temporal 
welfare, as had been his custom a few years ago, but 
to think of that which the present failed to fore- 
shadow. Now his eyes sought a large octagonal stone 
building towering two story that stood opposite him 
across the road. The open space in front of the beau- 
tiful and imposing structure sloped naturally down to 
the bounding walls ; it was laid out in terraced walks, 
each one fringed with miniature green walls of fir 


26 IS MARRIAGE A EAlLGRE? 

and hemlock. At the rear a row of tall trees formed 
a back-ground shaded to delicious coolness. 

Norman had often looked upon this imposing 
mansion and viewed its magnificent grounds with en- 
thused admiration, but he had never been so deeply- 
interested in one of its inmates as now. 

Rosedale, the name by which some idea of the 
beauty of this spot was communicated to the gentry 
of all lands, was the loveliest place in all Tennessee. 
Its boundary walls, inclosing acres of meadows, had 
been built ages ago ; they were now coated with poi- 
son ivy and lichen. The lawns aud meadows were 
as smooth as velvet, with that rare and peculiar even- 
ness that falls from the hand of time, dotted with an 
occasional summer-house, whose covering was of deep 
rich foliage and the luxuriantly blooming honey- 
suckle, while the nicely kept carriage drive was over- 
arched by an avenue of maple trees. 

Rosedale mansion was commodious and hand- 
somely constructed. A flight of steps, drilled from a 
solid stone, led into a vestibule, which opened into 
a spacious hall, whose floor was tesselated in brown 
and white stones. It was a reception room of impos- 
ing size and dimensions, decorated with statuary and 
rare old paintings, amid whose scenes seemed to lurk 
beautiful reflections of hidden wells of light ; also 
vases ot flowers whose fragrant petals, constantly re- 
newed by the practical and trusty gardener, never 
seemed to fade. A winding flight o^polished marble 
steps led to the upper hall and to the balustraded gal- 
lery, which extended all around the main building ; 
its railing, hung with rich old tapestry brought from 
China’s looms, and folds of dusky eastern silk, seemed 
to exhale rare perfumes of sandalwood and teuk. 

To the right of the hall was the drawing-room, 
an oval shaped and spacious apartment. The floor 
was black and garnet marble, cut in diamond shaped 
blocks, with an oval of Turkey carpeting covering its 
center. The ceiling was high, paneled off into little 
Swiss landscapes ; the walls were rose-colored and 
checkered into crystal mirrors ; curtains of the same 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


27 


tint concealed the high mullioned windows. 

On this lovely summer evening the occupants of 
this exquisitely beautiful room were three ; near the 
center table of dark heavy wood in grotesque carvings, 
apparently amusing himself with some flowers that 
filled a gilded basket, was seated a man of thirty and 
five years, of medium height and over average weight ; 
he had a broad forehead with a contracted brow, and 
rather a heavy expression upon his face. His eyes, a 
clear steel gray, were arched by heavy lashes of the 
same hue as the thick chestnut hair that shaded from 
view his most unworthy features. His face, buried 
in a short coarse beard, though sometimes pleasant, 
bore no mark of noble lineage, nor intercepted the 
keen intuition of the physiognomist in his search for 
the cardinal principles of human nobility. 

One would think, to view his sallow face of Malay 
type, with its true expression interpreted, that the 
germinal seed of honor that leads men into the useful- 
ness of life, had never been seen. This person was 
Richard Allen, a banker of business character and 
habits. With all of his faults and doubtful true in- 
wardness of character, he had redeeming features that 
made him warm admirers from that class of individ- 
uals who do not make honor the pride of ambition. 
He was social and genial in his courtesy to man, — 
social to gratify an insatiable desire for loquacity ; 
genial — because it was his only source to kill the dull 
hours of the long days. It was his disposition to 
make those pleasant around him whom he deemed 
worthy of his attention. 

Bold and outspoken in his belief, but rarely ever 
correct in his native opinion, yet ever ready and will- 
ing to benefit the public by its full rendering ; he 
sometimes manifested those inborn faculties of the 
human mind — self-conceit and vanity associated with 
one of those double natures, that seek by instinct a 
level, and courts the way to popularity by an unwar- 
rantable position. His cheerful, jovial disposition was 
one that apologized to society for many of the dark, 
defective points in his character. 


28 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


Untaught by public sentiment and unacquainted 
with his life, one would not discern the depth of his 
moral stamina with correctness. Richard Allen could 
not be called a man degenerate, and absolutely devoid 
of principles ; for he had many good and appreciative 
traits. He was kind to his wife and never failed to 
accord her that right and privilege which belongs to 
every woman. He was particularly fond of pets and 
children. Yet his mind would drift to subjects of 
temporal interest, and while considering them, he 
never thought what it might cost others. So he reas- 
oned without conviction or restraint. 

Sitting in a reclining chair, embossed with crim- 
som velvet, her dark head buried in its cushioned 
back, was a lady ; she was watching the sunset 
through the filmy folds of eastern lace, that fell like 
fleecy clouds over the oriel window that opened to 
the western balcony. Her soft, tapering, jeweled 
hands lay hidden within the folds of her thin white 
dress, her arms, bare to the creamy dimpled elbows, 
were clasped by a plain hasp of gold ; around the per- 
fect sloping shoulders was a fichur of finest lace and 
tulle, held closely to the milky white neck by a pin of 
plain gold, and then drawn over the full, deep, sighing 
breast and fastened at her waist by a boquet of carna- 
tions and chrysanthemums ; her dainty feet, resting on 
a Persian rug, were encased in satin slippers that 
showed to perfection a beautiful instep. 

Her queenly figure was turned with every motion 
of grace, its curves and lines straight and sculptural : 
her head queenly in beauty, was covered with hair, 
fine, soft, and black, which lay coiled in a Grecian 
knot, fastened with a gold dagger studded with pearl; 
her thin, translucent ears corresponded well with her 
little patrician nose ; her high, classic forehead strong- 
ly, clearly bore the insignia of an inbor ^ lady ; her 
soft, expressive eyes were fringed with silken, black 
lashes, which gave additional fire to their expression. 
Her skin was of a rich, clear olive, — tine grained and 
velvety as calla lily leaf, with the carmine glow of 
perfect health upon either cheek. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


29 

Such was Mrs. Richard Allen and such were her 
surroundings on this lovely evening. She had just 
returned from a matinee at one of the fashionable 
theaters. Here in her- own hixurious, stately apart- 
ments she was sadly engaged in her own reflections. 
She was a wife, surrounded by wealth and everything 
it .could buy, yet she was painfully unhappy. In the 
depths of her heart, the germ of all pleasure, there 
was a vacancy, do what she would, she could not fill 
its aching void. 

Lois Allen was a true and noble type of her sex ; 
but not faultless as some novel heroines are. As a 
representative of her* sex she was only human, not 
wanting in any of those rare instincts of feminine char- 
acter, for interwoven in every fibre of her nature was 
natural born honor and purity. Some laces we may 
study for a lifetime without learning all expressed in 
them ; such a face had Lois. 

Nature had endowed her with those magnetic 
charms that win the love and admiration of all who 
knew her ; thus she never lacked for attention from 
friends or admirers. Apart from her extreme beauty 
she possessed an inward grace and goodness that shone 
with such splendor as to give her the profoundest re- 
spect of all. 

Standing in front of Lois, just inside the oriel win- 
dow, was her sister. Iris Earle. She too was watch- 
ing the sunset. She had the same fair, round face, with 
the symmetrical beauty of her sister. Two faces apd 
two forms could not have been more alike ; they had the 
same sweet musical voices, the same grace of man- 
ners. Their most intimate friends could not distin- 
guish them apart. Only those who had seen them 
together could tell they were different persons. Many 
who lived in that vicinity thought there was but one 
lady at Rosedale Mansion. Often Mr. Allen found 
himself confused to know which of the two sisters 
was his wife ; often Iris was forced to say, ‘‘You are 
mistaken,” or become the recipient of caresses intend- 
ed for Lois. 

As Iris stood watching, with intense interest the 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


30 

glow of dying day, she turned and looked quietly into 
the darkening room. Something strangely sad in 
Lois’ face, as her head rested on the back of the large 
chair, attracted her attention ; her white face was turn- 
ed to the softening light of day, while her hand rested 
on a statuette of superior skill, that filled the space 
near her. 

Ins, seeing her wrapped in the solitude of her own 
reflection, forgot the brilliant scene now fading in the 
west, and asked in a low tone: “Lois, why do you 
look so grave this evening? Usually when you have 
been to such an entertainment you come home in 
your gayest mood.” 

Mr. Allen, overhearing the question, interjected, 
“Yes, Lois, be kind enough to give the cause of your 
solemnity; perhaps we can do something to relieve 
you of its stupefying effects.” 

Without noticing her husband’s remarks, she 
opened her eyes and dreamily placed their soft light 
upon Iris — her exact counterpart — as she answered, 
“You must think me sad every time you see me not 
talking. Sometimes I like to commune with self in 
silence ; besides, I am somewhat fatigued from my 
evening’s dissipation.” 

Mr. Allen, turning restlessly in his seat, said, “I 
should think there would be no occasion to commune 
with your own spirit while in the presence of Iris. 
You might break the monotony by giving her the ad- 
vantage of your meditations. You are so much alike 
you ought to be one. Do you not sometimes meet 
with Iris and think you are standing before your 
mirror?” 

Lois turned her white face to her husband, as she 
queried, “What did you say?” 

“ Nothing,” was the laughing response. 

“ I did not know people could talk without say- 
ing something,” replied Iris in that calm, earnest tone 
that was so natural with her. 

“Yes,” rejoined Lois, “Richard, give us the bene- 
fit of what you said. You could ‘not have spoken 
without conveying some idea.” 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


31 

Mr. Allen arose from his seat as she ceased speak- 
ing and said, “No, I will not disturb y >u and Iris to- 
night. I have some business in town ; will doubtless 
be detained ali night. I will attend the opera.” 

Without turning to say good-bye, he walked 
away. 

Lois felt a little pleasure at his going. “I can 
have the night to myself and talk to Iris undisturbed,” 
were her thoughts. 

When the last sound of his retreating footsteps 
had vanished. Iris deserted the oriel window and came 
near Lois, saying, “Sister, I have often seen in your 
life what you would gladly keep concealed from me 
and all the world.” 

“ Iris, you are such a prodigy. What is it so pre- 
cious to me — that I guard so carefully — yet its exist- 
ence is known to others?” 

Impulsively Iris folded the beautiful form in her 
arms ; removing the black tresses from her white 
brow, she kissed her gently as she reprovingly replied, 
“My dear, unhappy sister, ever since we have been 
together I have loved you very much. I have watch- 
ed after and thought of you more than I have of self. 
Without you I would be perfectly alone in the world; 
without me you would be worse than alone. -We are 
not dearer to each other than we should be. Why 
should you know anything that in the nature of cir- 
cumstance^belongs entirely to me? You are unhap- 
py. Don’t stare at me so blankly. If such are the 
facts, and you have unintentionally communicated 
them to me, I surely am not to blame ; and it is not 
by any. sin of yours that your life is what it now is. 
The millions that are going in every direction of life 
are all human, ‘none perfect, no, not one,” says the 
divine record. They are all liable to sin, to disap- 
pointment and to utter hopelessness in this life.” 

Lois threw her exquisitely beautiful and white 
arms around her sister’s neck, as she buried her tear- 
stained face on her bosom, as if to hide all the misery 
and humiliation written ti.ere. 

Iris had touched a tender chord in Lois’ life ; one 


32 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 


she prayed, and fully believed, no mortal man or 
woman would ever know. She was miserable be- 
cause her married life was almost a fatal disappoint- 
ment. Now she was deeply humiliated because an- 
other had filched the secret from her. 

Suddenly the powerful sobs were hushed, and 
Lois unclasped her arms from her sister’s neck. Me- 
chanically she arose to a full sitting posture, a mingled 
expression of sorrow, regret and love on the proud 
face, as she calmly said, “I know I am not perfect ; 
nor do I think my past has been moulded by wise and 
considerate actions. Yet, under the same circum- 
stances, I doubtless would commit the same errors 
that now. bind me; then, why regret that which cir- 
cumstances have fostered into irremediable existence ? 
The future and duty are before me; by the fulfillment 
of the latter the former will be made brighter. 

“ My existence is a fact. The duties that devolve 
upon me, if performed, are but tributaries to a peace- 
ful hour in which to die. I am perfectly sensible of 
every fault I have. I am painfully cognizant that 
sometimes an unconscious sigh or a sorrowful expres- 
sion may betray me. Yes, Iris, I am very unhappy ; 
but I don’t want to burden you with my wretched- 
ness. One usually has trials enough of their own to 
bear, without borrowing from others.” 

“ That is true, Lois; but you know I have no 
cares or troubles of my own, and I feel th^t your life 
is a part of mine. Love nor marriage has never filled 
my heart with despair or responsibility. I have no 
one to care for but you. During all this time you 
have bravely foreborne to speak of your troubles, yet 
I knew they existed. I have discerned and now tell 
you the cause : You are not married happily. I have 
watched you contend with your God-given nature 
and put down that which would make your husband 
unhappy. I have seen you give and receive caresses 
which, in the nature of things, were repulsive to you; 
yet you are known as the most affectionate of wives. 

“A few evenings ago, as we were returning from 
the city, we came to Mr, Wellington’s store. You 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


33 

asked him to ride home with us. On several occa- 
sions prior to this you iiave done the same tliin^^L Do 
not turn so pale ; I do not mean to reproach yon. In 
acting this way you may not do right, for you know 
Mr. Wellington stands far below you in the social 
scale, and it might evoke some unpleasant criticism. 
But I do not blame you for it ; I am sure your mo- 
tives are pure. Though on some occasions, in the 
last few months, I have seen your passionate, emo- 
tional nature excited, as revealed in the soft depths of 
your expressive eyes, yet there is no hope of happi- 
ness. You have wealth and access to all that culture 
and civilization has bequeathed to the world ; but, in 
the much coveted morsel, the world’s mock sweetness 
has turned to bitterness.” 

Lois, having arisen from her seat and posed her- 
self against a large statuette of some old design, here 
exclaimed, “Oh, sister, let us defer this conversation 
to some other -time. When I am more composed I 
will tell you all I know of myself. I can trust you 
with my heart. Ring for lights and let us go to the 
conservatory.” 

When the waxen candles were burning in their 
silver sconces, the twin sis^'ers led each other to the 
conservatory, where, amidst scented tlowers and trop- 
ical vines, a dainty repast awaited them. The unri- 
valed charm of the scene touched not the throbbing 
bosom of Lois ; leaving her tea untouched, she at 
once retired to her private boudoir. Her heart heavy 
with an untold sorrow, she threw herself undressed 
upon her couch. 

“ Was fate ever so cruel to woman?” she thought. 

She had known 'ever since her marriage that she 
did not, and could not, love her husband. The more 
she condemned herself and tried to love, the more ob- 
stinate became her heart. She often asked herself, 
was it a sin not to love him ; she could not believe it 
was. It was the one grand and fatal mistake of her 
life, that she married ; then could it be a sin not to love 
and cherish that which formed itself in error, and 
against which the purer and nobler instincts of her 


34 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 

heart rebelled? “No,” she told herself, “it could not 
be.” flad she been only illiterate she might have 
loved and thereby been happy ; but he was coarse, 
unrefined, and unprincipled in his dealing with his 
fellow-men. 

She knew many ladies, highly cultured in mind 
and soul, who had illiterate husbands, whom they 
loved ; yet these men were honored and guided by the 
highest principles of integrity. True she had wealth; 
but, at times she felt if justice was done, her fortune 
would be small. Thus she meditated for hours ; after 
which she arose and undressed herself. 

Having donned her night robe, she opened a 
window that gave egress to the western balcony ; she 
drew a chair near it and sat down to calmly reflect on 
the matters which were so near her heart. Raising 
her eyes she looked across the terraced grounds ; there 
was a light in the shadow of the dark woods that lay 
beyond. She too well knew from whose room the 
light was shining. It was at Elmwood, and in Nor- 
man Wellington’s room. She wondered if he saw the 
light in hers, and was thinking of her as she was of 
him. 

Thus she communed with herself : “I must not 
think of him ; he has a wife to love and protect, and 
1 cannot love him honorably. O, sister, is it possible 
you have found out that which I blush to admit to 
myself? Although I have often feared it was love, 
yet I have never analyzed my feelings, lest my appre- 
hension I found true. How can I even acknowledge 
to myself that I love another save he whom I have 
promised to love and share the burden of life?” 

Then she tried to think of something else. She 
turned her eyes into the dark, silent night, secretly 
wishing she might, or could, dream away her future 
in like solitude. Charms of life and hope of happi- 
ness had almost ceased to be the sweet incentive to 
move forward into the light of another day. 

The dark, impenetrable night, the unearthly still- 
ness gave vigor to her hopeless meditations and magnifi- 
ed the troubles that lay so sorely upon her bleeding heart. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


35 

When she looked again the dim, flickering light, 'that 
shone beneath the boughs of the stately elms, was 
gone. As she arose to retire she called to mind a 
quotation from May’s continuation of Lucan : 

“Night’s silent reign liad robbed the world of light, 

To lend in view a greater benefit, 

Kepose and sleep ; when every mortal breast 
Whom care or grief permitted tookthier rest. 


CHAPTER IV. 

I LOVE HIM. 

Love is not to be reasoned down, or lost; 

’Tis second life; it grows into the soul, 

Warms every vein and beats in every pulse. 

— Addison. 

’Tis not a fault to love. 

The strong, the brave, the virtuous and the wise 

Sink into the soft captivity together. 

The next morning the sun was high in the east 
when Iris knocked at Lois’ door ; no response issued 
from within. Gently she unbolted the door and 
entered. Lois, unconscious of the bright morning 
sun’s shining through the open latticed window, still 
slept ; resting from the burning ordeal through which 
she had passed, in her mind, during the last day. 

Iris walked to her bedside ; she looked down, 
with deep admiration, upon the beautiful face, with 
its pearly tints and symmetrical curves. Involuntarily 
kissing the white brow, she began to place in order 
the disarranged room. When she had finished by 
placing a pair of embroidered slippers on a foot-stool 
at the bedside, she sat down and tenderly drew the 
beautiful head, witli its magnificent hair, into her lap. 

As she watched the fair sleeper, she said, though 
not audibly: “Sister, I wish I could give you that 
peace of mind, that tranquility of heart, that would 
remove from the path of existence you are destined 
to travel every trace of sorrow and disappointment. 
There are but few natures in this world like yours ; 


36 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

few hearts imbued with that depth of feeling, with 
that divine temperament that capacitates the heart for 
the recipiency and enjoyment of the highest pleas- 
ures and blessings.^ Oh! inauspicious fate, to sink 
into the darkest trenches of despair and hopelessness 
this heart ! My dear sister, the world is unworthy to 
judge you ; their nature is common and vulgar, while 
yours rises above the coarse, and approximates in 
purity and elevation of purpose to those who have tried 
to li- e without sin. 

“Those who have not loved with their whole 
hearts, and at the stern, imperative instigation of na- 
ture, are unfit to pass sentence upon the sweet passion 
that lies buried beneath your alabaster bosom. Good 
and pure men must ever condemn with unwavering 
reproach, and ever discountenance such a love as 
yours ; in passing sentence upon your uncontrollable 
indifference to your husband, and your moods of dark- 
est despondency, their judgment will not be modified 
by mitigating circumstances. The ruling passion of 
love that lies firmly implanted in every fibre of your 
divinely wrought nature, pleads witlv the voice of a 
successful attorney; but its injured, its stifled, its un- 
holy voice fails to reach the ear of consideration. 
And what is sweetest of all to woman is gone — her 
name — that which she has proudly guarded with all 
the vigilance of her soul, bearing as her watchword — 

‘Woman’s honour 

Is as nice as ermine— will not bear a stain.’ ” 

She inclined her head forward and touched with 
her pure lips the closed eyelids of her still sleeping 
sister. Continuing her soliloquy she said : “What- 
ever action this strange love may lead you to consider, 

I will never desert you. From these warm castle 
walls, the extravagant representation of wealth, I will 
follow you into the cold, bleak world. I have, since 
your married life, been an incumbrance upon your . 
hospitality ; you have been more than generous and 
sisterly, to me. Now I will be to you. How strange 
it must be to love ! I do not understand any of its 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


37 


sweet, indefinable principles. Oh that you, my dear 
sister, had never felt its strange, its magnetic power ! 

“ Had any one except your dear, fascinating self 
made such pretensions, as your actions sometimes in- 
dicate, I would call the love part a myth. Some- 
times, when thinking of your strange unhappiness, I 
am forced to bitterly condemn you as wanting in 
pride and the necessary elements of a perfect lady. 
Yes, sister, while I am nov\' under the influence of 
your presence, my consciousness of right forces me to 
look with disdain upon this developing history, that, 

I fear, will too soon be opened for all eyes to read; 
but I may judge you wrong. What my intuitive 
senses and instincts have disclosed to me may be with- 
out foundation. 

“ So I must not feed my mind upon an opinion 
until I am sure there is oc:asion for alarm.” As she 
looked upon the face so much like her own, she could 
scarcely believe in her own fears. Again she renewed 
her vow to stand by her sister in all future troubles, 
and this determination was sealed with all the firm- 
ness of her woman’s nature. 

Replacing the queenly head upon the soft pillow, 
she noiselessly left the room ; resolving in her mind 
to watch with patience the coming of events, and if 
she saw her sister acting with marked imprudence she 
would turn Larates and check what might become a 
scandal "Of the most savory taste to the gossiping 
world. 

When Ins descended the winding balustraded 
stairway and entered the hall, she met Mr. Allen, 
who said in his usual style, “How did you pass the 
night? Did any gliosts come to disturb you in my 
absence?” 

“Oh, we passed over the night quite undisturbed, 
thank you,” replied Iris. 

“ Did you not go to Elmwood last night ?” asked 
Mr. Allen. 

“No, sir; why should we have gone over there? 
With the servants, 1 am sure we felt quite safe at 
home,” rejoined Iris, betraying a slight uneasiness as 


38 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

to what her reply might evoke. 

Without noticing the spirited manner in which 
his very civil question had been answered, Mr. Allen 
continued : “Then you have not heard of the very 
sad accident which befell Mrs. Wellington yester- 
day?” 

Iris, calming herself almost sufficiently to feel an 
interest in the conversation, lifted her superb face, 
with its dark, rich beauty, until her eyes met those of 
her brother-in-law, then queried, “Was it serious, or 
something trivial ?” 

“ Would you call death a light affair?” 

“ Of course not ; but you do not mean to say 
anything so sad has taken place so near us, and we 
have not been advised of it?” 

“Yes; Norman Wellington’s wife lies sleeping 
this morning with the shroud of death thrown about 
her. Yes; she who was living yesterday at noon, 
with the promise of many years to enjoy the sweet- 
ness of life, was suddenly brought into the presence 
of eternity. And now motionless, pale and lifeless, 
she sleeps in the cradle of endless duration, from 
which never again to rise to behold with, loved friends 
the beauties of this world.” 

“ Pray tell me the cause of this sad affair.” 

“Yesterday in the afternoon Mrs. Wellington 
went out for a drive ; being charmed with the fresh- 
ness of the country atmosphere, she was out longer 
than it seemed; and while returning home, driving 
very rapidly, her horses took sudden fright, and while 
they were recklessly mad, dashing along the country 
road, the carriage wheel struck a boulder and she 
was thrown from her seat and instantly killed. The 
funeral exercises will be at 3 p. m, today.” 

With this he walked away, leaving Iris to her 
own reflections and to form whatever opinions she 
might choose. No sooner were his footsteps heard 
upon one of the rear verandas, than she hastily re- 
traced her steps to Lois’ apartment. She knocked 
softly ; a sweet voice from within said, “Come in.” 
She turned the pearly knob and obeyed. Lois was 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 39 

Up; she had attired herself in a dressing gown; her 
little French maid, Fanchette, was dressing her hair. 
The long, black, silken tresses hung loose over the 
perfect, peerless shoulders, resting their even ends 
upon the Brussels, whose softness buried the sound of 
footsteps. 

Iris did not speak, but gently approached Lois 
for the morning caress, then walked away to a chair 
near the window, waiting, she knew not why, to im- 
part the dreadful news to her. She looked out in the 
direction of Elmwood ; the sunlight glistened brightly 
on the elms that grandly to\yered around the home of 
the bereaved ; its bright rays — were they typical of 
the tar away future of one of its inmates? 

Iris thought the morning atmosphere seemed im- 
pregnated with a calmness that tacitly foretold of 
sadder events than had ever yet clouded her exist- 
ence. She had no reason for these unpleasant premoni- 
tions, and there had been no precursory warning as a 
prologue to what might transpire in the future; yet 
she had strong inward convictions which, in spite of 
her will to believe otherwise, would boil to the sur- 
face in her feelings and direct her thoughts. 

Often in the existence of every one there are 
strange and half perfect illuminations that flash along 
the ridge of thought, making us much wiser than we 
were before, though without imparting new vigor or 
strength to our powers of conception, or giving us a 
perfect and altogether plausible reason for the faith 
that is in us; nevertheless these sudden but limited 
revelations of nature will occur. 

The beauty of the sunlight nor the stately green 
trees engrossed Iris’ thoughts this morning ; they 
were with her sister, and now she turned her eyes 
upon her. Fanchette had carefully done her work, 
and with that presum'ptuous smile so natural to maids 
was admiring the effects of her skill. 

As Iris turned she said, “Miss Lois, you are so 
pretty. There are many ladies in England who 
would give their vast wealth in exchange for your 
hair and eyes. I summered five years ago with one 


40 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

of the royal ladies of her majesty at Lake Como. 
There I saw lords, queens and ladies from all lands. 
When there was a grand ball or entertainment of any 
kind my services were solicited. But, Miss Lois, 
under the soft skies that beamed over the crystal 
bosom of Lake Como, I never looked upon one of 
those pampered da^ughters of wealth and nobility, 
in their glittering silk and pearls, who was half so 
fair as you in your morning robe. Do not smile at 
me as if I was not sincere in my praise. Your face, 
so sweet and wonderful in its marvielous beauty, 
should you ever tread my own loved land, would find 
its due appreciation. In Paris you would be crowned 
with immortelles. I once went with the Empress’ 
daughter to Worth’s. He looked at Mademoiselle a 
moment, then said she would be most troublesome to 
fit; that, in order to make her a model of grace and 
beauty of form, he would be forced to relieve her de- 
fects by artificial appliances. The famous artist would 
delight to favor you with the benefit of his vast expe- 
rience. It would be the skilled and ingenious hand of 
art embellishing nature’s finest and most perfect work. 
I have been with wealthy ladies at the summer re- 
sorts of the Black Forest, in France and Italy, on 
Switzerland’s mountain tops, at America’s dmired 
Long Branch and Saratoga, but all this beauty would 
pale before the lovely daughter of the ‘Volunteer 
State.” Bowing gracefully to her mistress she retired 
from the boudoir, leaving the sisters alone. 

Lois was first to speak, her voice gentle and full, 
giving to each word a perfect accent ; to Iris her 
words were threaded with a tone, softening and sym- 
pathetic in its effects. She, like the bland and effu- 
sive maid, thought her sister the paragon of woman- 
hood. As she sat there watching the face that ever 
charmed her she said in her own mind, “France with 
her Paris, her boulevards, her forests and sunny plains 
would yield to worth and place her on her list of 
crowned beauties. Como’s tide would recede that 
her silvery sand might receive the impress of the 
dainty foot, and her placid water reflect the form that 


‘ IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 4I 

has no parallel.” 

“Iris,” questioned Lois, “you look strangely this 
morning. What is it you have to tell me? Why do 
you stare at me with that perplexed mien?” 

“Lois, if you would look at me a little more nat- 
urally, the mask would fall from my face and you 
would see me as I am. But I have something to tell 
you, sad news.” 

“It will not abridge matters to tamper with my 
patience by giving me a prologue to your only mis- 
sion.” 

Iris, observing her sister’s petulant mood, briefly 
detailed the accident. Lois remained calm, manifest- 
ing but little interest. There is no mind so subtle, so 
ingenious, as to have djetected the turbulent emotion 
that swayed beneath the mingled look of complacency 
and bewilderment. Iris could not tell whether Lois’ 
sympathy had been enlisted for the unfortunate or 
not ; and she compassionately asked, “Don’t you think 
it a very sad affair?” 

“Yes was the monosyllabic reply. 

“Lois, would you like to attend the funeral this 
evening? I met Mr. Allen in the hall and he said the 
exercises would be at 3 p. m.” 

Lois arose from her seat and went to the window 
that faced Elmwood, but did not look in that direc- 
tion ; her vision could not penetrate the clear pane of 
glass. A few seconds of silent meditation and she 
half impulsively turned to Iris ^ “Yes ; I will go with 
you.” Stooping to press her lips to the forehead of 
her sister, she added ; “Now leave me ; I will join you 
in the conservatory in an hour.” 

When Iris had closed the door behind her and 
passed down the hall, Lois threw her overtaxed body 
upon a divan and gave way to bitter weeping, open 
demonstration of a deep and lasting misery, grounded 
in the pangs of an unknown and secret grief. 
“Why should I be concerned? What is it to me?” 
she would say. 

Her voice choked, her eyes became sightless and 
for a moment her brain lost its power ; then she 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


42 

thought, “What will become of me ? Must I acknowl- 
edge to myself my love for another man than my hus- 
band? For two long years I’ve fought against this 
passion ; for two long years I’ve carried this secret 
burden in my heart, for two long years I’ve striven 
with all the mastery of my soul to extinguish this 
mad, hopeless flame, and now, must I, another man’s 
wife degrade self by this unholy confession? Bring 
dishonor, degeneracy upon the name that has ever 
been untrammeled with taint? Begone love? O! 
O ! base, unholy passion, devised — a wretched, demor- 
alizing something — for the prostitution and misery of 
all its victims ; something unholy, ungodly in its na- 
ture, plebeian, contemptible and fllthy in its origin ; 
shrewd, artful and most ingenious in its persuasion ; 
ruinous and most baneful in its -consequences.” 

As she thus mused Norman Wellington’s form 
arose before her, contrasted with that of her husband, 
but in personal bearing and superficial dignity, Mr. 
Allen was, to all appearance, Mr. Wellington’s peer. 
Then she would say, “Why can I not love him?” 
But before the thought would mature, the two men’s 
innate character and true elements of principle were 
contrasted. Mr. Wellington, like the bright and ever 
shining star of truth and perfection, was veiled in the 
glory of his goodness, while Mr. Allen only seemed 
as other men. Was this comparison and analysis a 
true one? It certainly was true. Then, must we 
condemn our heroine for these thoughts relative to 
the character of the two men? No; certainly not; 
they were the truth. Must we condemn and banish 
her from the pale of society for these meditations? 

We have not gone to fiction’s boundless realms 
and brought you an imaginary character, entirely 
faultless ; but we have before us one of flesh and 
blood — a real one ; one who from early life, prompted 
by strong religious convictions, touched by the finger 
of God, fell upon her knees each night in prayerful 
pleading to her maker. Reader, if you could have 
heard those soft lips offer the gentle, trusting peti- 
tions of her heart for the poor, the suffering and for 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 43 

the welfare of all, if you could have seen her small 
white hands administer to the wants of the helpless, 
you would be slow to pass sentence upon her. 

Could we open the carefully guarded doors of 
mind, enter the chambers of concealed thought, how 
many could we find whose goodness and magnanimity 
of purpose would exceed Lois Allen’s. I dare say we 
would find none. In order to test the true value and 
merits of anything it must be subjected to certain 
analysis. So with human worth. The person who 
does not steal deserves no credit, if his circumstances 
have been those of affluence, and he has never been 
thrown in the way of temptation. 

Lois had never known much happiness ; but she 
had never known a grief like unto the grief that came 
with the dawning of love, though as yet she has 
scarcely tasted of the cup fate says she must drain to 
the bitter dregs. She possessed one of those poetical 
natures,combined with the wise inheritance of perspi- 
caciousness and well neutralized intellects, that never 
tires in distilling admiration upon the genuinely 
beautiful and artistically designed. When the fetters 
were burst that had so long directed her uneventful 
life within the cold, formal restrictions of duty, her 
buried nature of love, of poetry, of romance leaped 
from the prison center of heart in response to the 
gentle but irresistible persuasiveness of the world’s 
most absolute and unevading tyrant — love. 

When she recognized the dawn of such an ill- 
timed and disgraceful love, her heart recoiled with 
burning shame, with bitter self-contempt, more nau- 
seating and acrid to the purity of her mind than a 
draught of blood and wormwood to the palate. With 
a masterly effort, actuated, encouraged and quickened 
by the love of honor, the love of self and the inspira- 
tion of heaven, she suppressed the feeling; but no 
sooner had her heart regained its wonted quiet- 
tude, than the bandaged flame dilated beyond the 
gates of control, invading every fibre and nook of her 
being. 


44 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


‘‘What IS this subtle, searching flame of love, 

That penetrates the breast nnask(Ni, 

^Viid blasts the heart of an adamant 

As the quick lightning often calcines the blade 

Of tempered steel, and leaves the sheath unhurt*:” 

When she fullv ascertained her position, her feel- 
ings, and the unyielding sway of her love, she resolv- 
ed that her misery, her sin, the secret cancer that 
would some day consume her life, should never be 
known outside the portals of her own soul ; never 
would she indicate, by word or look, to a living mor- 
tal her shame. It was enough to confess it to God, 
who dealt gently with all. She would try to forget 
the noble image — noble to her heart — who had ex- 
tracted unawares peace from her bosom. A thought 
of relief came with a quotation from Otway : 

“If it be a hopeless love, use generous means 
And lay a kinder beauty to the wound; , 

Take a new infection to the heart, 

And the rank poison of the old will die.” 

Although she resolved to apply the remedy, could 
she? She said she would take her husband to her 
heart, she would see his virtues and crown them ; his 
faults, she would tell herself he had none ; and then 
the poison of the old infection would die. This 
proved but a momentary relief; in spite of her strong 
faith and Christian hopes she did not feel composed; 
a tinge of regret mingled with gall and sweetness op- 
pressed her, one moment making- life wretched and 
cheerless, the next eliminating the' sad debris of con- 
solation, and substituting hope and sweet longings, 
blended with the new and rarest^of all pleasures; with 
the latter the gasped words of Lord Lyttleton trembled 
on her lips ; 

“But love can liope where reason would disdain.” 

Thus at the incipiency of her new life, a life preg- 
nant with the severest tests and convulsive with the 
sharpest pangs, she reasoned with self : until this 
June morning she had endeavored to execute every 
plan that promised to secure her safety from the fire 
within ; but during the contest she could not learn to 
love Mr. Allen, and she was equally certain she could 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 45 

never forget Mr. Wellington. 

During her last musings the question had often 
arisen in her mind, “Did Mr. Wellington love herr^’ 
She knew she had no right to expect such, as she had 
no inherent or legal right, either, to bestow hers. This 
always mortified her. No special attention had ever 
been shewn her by him ; his bearing was 
ever courteous and gentlemanly, never betraying any 
feeling save respect. Often on her return from the 
city she encountered Mr. Wellington ; this gave am- 
ple opportunity for the exchange of opinions on this 
subject ; yet nothing passeTl to indicate the slightest 
clue to the warm and powerful attachment that had 
almost spontaneously ripened into love. 

“Now his wife is dead. Will that knowledge 
react on my feelings to my advantage? Perhaps this 
will cause separation, and if so I may be able to for- 
get him,” she thought. 

She remembered how a few moments ago she 
had condemned love and declared she would exclude 
it from her heart, but as her cogitations matured she 
began to recognize the true and unadvised state of 
her feelings. She felt the deep and mysterious power 
of the love in her heart; she knew it could not be 
resisted. “Yes,” she acknowledged to herself, “7 love 
him! There is no power short of the grave that 
can, for one moment, still my heart to quietude. As 
the sun from his unknown heights shines upon the 
earth and is the source of all vegetable life, so is my 
knightly prince to me. Ah ! I do not love him of 
choice. My heart shrinks from such a love and its 
direful consequences. But, 

‘ Love is not in our power. 

Nay, what seems strange is not our choice; 

We only love where fate ordained we should.’ ” 

“ O that I could recall the moment I ever met 
him ; blot from memory its existence. But that is 
past now, and I must abide by a fixed decree.” 

When we feel the sting of guilt upon our souls 
there is a pleasure in the knowledge that it is confined 
to ourselves. Thus it was with Lois, though she did 


IS MARRIAGB A FAILURE? 


46 

not feel safe from the espionage of her sister. Only 
last evening Iris had spoker? of her imprudence and 
marked attention to Mr. Wellington ; however, she 
could readily put Iris to rest upon this subject, and 
then none but herself and heaven would know of the 
enormous, the secret sin of her heart; she felt safe 
with her God. He who had made and tempered na- 
ture must understand its capabilities and require- 
ments. She knew it had not been her wish to love 
in shame; that she had done all in her power to 
smother the flame in its- infancy ; but it was too 
strong for her available means. If it was accounted 
a sin in the court of heaven, as in this world, then she 
was lost ; her name eternally dishonored and the ob- 
ject of life unattained. 

Though she was a strong believer in the New 
Testament requirements and the Mosaical command- 
ments, yet upon careful and studied reflection the 
enormity of her sin seemed to diminish with the in- 
tensity of her love. The instinctive and innate fac- 
tors of her existence seemed to hold, with strange and 
stubborn tenacity, that, if she alone was responsible 
for the inauspicious and ill-omened condition of her 
present, that it must be a cruel Father who moved in 
the splendor and omnipotence of heaven, imbuing 
each nature with specific and peculiar temperaments, 
susceptible to their utmost extent to the irresistible 
influences that yield death. 

Her priest had taught her that God was gentle, 
full of love, merciful and kind ; with these attributes 
of goodness forming His important constituents, she 
thought it incompatible with his nature to execute the 
requirements formulated into church creeds by biblical 
constructionists. Thus reasoning concerning God, 
she thought less of her sin. 

Feeling safe within the arms of the tender shep- 
herd, she arose from th^ divan, happier than when 
she buried her face in its velvet cushioned back. 
Softly she opened the door, with an airy noiselessness 
passed down the steps, through the long hall and into 
the dining room, where she had promised to join Iris. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE FUNERAL. 

We must all die! 

All leave ourselves, it matters not where, when, 

Nor how, so we die well. 

— Beaumont and Fletcher. 

It was a glorious June morning that smiled upon 
the world; in its completeness seeming to consummate 
the end of all glory ; portraying vividly to man that 
this world was made to honor God; whispering to 
him that man lived not unto himself but unto the 
Father. 

Rosedale grounds never appeared more beauteous 
than now, seen under the caressing sunlight, while the 
soft, southern breeze stirred the foliage of tree and 
flower. The atmosphere was laden with fragrant, 
ambrosial exhalations from the rare and sweet-scented 
flowers ; more especially the luxuriant banks of roses 
on every side gave forth the rich odor of Cashmere’s 
vale. The summer houses that nestled here and there 
were covered with flowers, so deeply buried amidst 
the foliage their identity could hardly be established. 

The stately beeches, the tall, slender ffines and 
the majestic and slender elms met and interlaced their 
boughs shadily over the walk ; the ivy-hidden foun- 
tains threw their limpid waters high into the air, until 
the glittering spray shone in the sunshine with dia- 
mond brilliancy. 

One could not look upon Rosedale and its mag- 
nificent grounds without a thrill of admiration.*^ Its 
broad terraced walks, its graceful trees, its drooping 
arbutus and golden arbor vitae, its profusion of flowers 
and sparkling fountains, its matchless park, where 
trees of every known land that can be acclimated 
exist, all combine to render it the loveliest place in 
the state. 

The morning went slowly and sluggishly to Lois. 
Mr. Allen, Iris and she had decided on going to the 
funeral. As had been the custom, the trio passed the 


48 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 


mornin^r in the library, but this morning without the 
interchange of many ideas. Mr. Allen was absorbed 
in the morning paper ; Iris was studiously engaged in 
reading Corinne, her heart replete ‘with admiration 
for the girl whose rare qualities of intellect had 
crowned her at Italy’s capitol. Lois was pretending 
to occupy her mind with Byron’s Giaour, but her 
thoughts wandered far from the page her eyes me- 
chanically read. Suddenly it returned and caught 
the words before her : 

“The cypress droops to death, 

Still sad when others’ grief is fled, 

The only constant mourner over the dead.” 

Then she thought of the bereaved husband, of the 
dead wife. She wondered how deeply Mr. Welling- 
ton lamented her death. Would his grief be like the 
drooping cypress — ever faithful — or would her place 
soon be tilled by another? In her heart she hoped he 
would never marry again ; nor, if her feelings, as 
they then were had been recorded, could there have 
been found much sorrow for Mr. W’^ellington’s misfor- 
tune; for, as tender and sympathetic as her nature, 
the transport of love, born beneath a burning clime, 
where nature is steeped in constancy and fickleness 
relegated to colder climes, had tinctured her being 
with a kind of selfishness that prospected upon a hap- 
py ending of a love that had such an unhappy be- 
ginning. 

“Too early seen; unknown; and known too late I” 
washer sad thought when some phenomenon of mind 
brought her pensive meditation to an abrupt close. 
Glancing around she beheld her husband sitting near 
the window, his head resting upon his Land, his eyes 
following the lines of an editorial article in the 
America}!. 

Tlie sun shone softly through the filmy curtain 
of silk and lace, throwing his shadowy light into Mr. 
Allen’s face ; now every feature of the rather sallow 
face stole from its hiding place of smiles and feigned 
good humored nature, revealing to the eye a physiog- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


49 

nomy liable to severe criticism. Unconsciously Lois 
fully comprehended him in that look ; though she 
would have read only the good depicted there, yet the 
draught received into her soul, though unknown to 
her, contained all the bad. 

A silent, unknown and invisible messenger broke 
in upon her melancholy reverie and ushered her mind 
into the presence of a new and more abstract theme. 
As her eyes met the strange, complex and mysterious 
face of her husband, her heart exclaimed from the 
silent throne of its agony, -‘What is it to lay down 
the galling burden of life? to enter the endless realms 
of eternity? Could my soul rise from its unstable, 
mutable clay — above the feculent, turbid and fitful 
experiences of this world, and register its name in 
holy, indelible letters upon the pages of eternity!” 

Here the trio were notified the carriage was wait- 
ing to take them to the funeral. Quickly rousing 
from her reverie, Lois was first to take her seat. Half 
an hour’s drive brought them to the churchyard. 
The church, a spacious edifice with gothic roof, had 
stood for a number of years ; around it were lordly 
forest trees and trailing vines. 

Mr. Allen, Lois and Iris were late. The clergyman, 
whose silvery locks bore the touch of many winters, 
whose span of life had reached three score and five 
years, was extemporizing from the pulpit. Lois, un- 
conscious of who she was or to what position she 
belonged, led by the strongest and most inexplicable 
anxiety, walked in advance of Mr. Allen. Without 
ascertaining what part of the house might suit them 
best, she marched to the front tier of pews. 

Her eyes first dwelt upon Norman, seated near 
the sealed bier containing the mortal remains of his 
wife; his face was haggard, pale and worn ; pity 
mingled with regret rendered his lips speechless and 
his h^eart grief-stricken. He never raised his eyes 
from the casket where his wife lay sleeping a sleep 
whose antidote is God’s all powerful voice. In one 
moment after her death all past differences were for- 
gotten ; her faults no Idnger appeared against her ; 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


50 

her sudden and inopportune death brought reconcilia- 
tion in the sense that all was forgiven. 

As Norman went back over the history of their 
married life his heart filled with painful regret; he 
wished he could have been more affectionate and kind 
toward her ; that he could have satisfied all the claims 
for happiness her life demanded. But he thought : 
“What are these vain regrets? They cannot amelio- 
rate or make life better. This is but the passing 
through nature’s different states. All that lives must 
die. Death is pendant over life’s pathway, and will, 
sooner or later, seize us all. Why succumb to grief 
against the inevitable? Farewell, dear wife, you 
have gone and left me. You were called by the stern 
voice of fate; without a warning tone you crossed 
the river, without one good-bye. 

“ If I have been careless and indifferent to your 
wants in this life, it has not been my own will or de- 
sire. My nature is, I feel, naturally kind and desirous 
to make those happy around me. If I have to your 
pure and noble soul seemed avaricious and mercenary 
it has not been by any voluntary will of my own free 
agency. Whatever you may have seen in me to de- 
plore, I pray your angel spirit, before condemning too 
bitterly, to analyze what may have been my secrets 
and with what force they may have moulded and gov- 
erned my life. As I leave these holy walls, and re- 
luctantly retire from your newly made grave, I go to 
mingle with the world in its unmasked attitude. I 
feel that my business life has about closed, not closed 
because you are gone, for I had it in contemplation 
before now. Stronger forces and a more sovereign 
momentum are moving upon my life ; its swaying 
every fibre of my being ; though I cannot read the 
mystic page held just over the border of the present, 
I realize fully that it is fraught with much interest to 
me. Wili I be able to meet its requirements as a true 
man? Now that I am wholly alone — the last link 
broken- -what will my life be? I shrink from my 
own selfishness as thus viewed. You, my darling, 
are now free ; no troubles press your joyous brow.” 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 5 1 

With these parting thoughts for his wife, he en- 
deavored to let his thoughts keep pace with the dis- 
course; though he looked upon the funeral service as 
nonsense and irrational, he generally respected the 
Christian religion with its benign and civilizing influ- 
ences. His mind was poisoned and infected with 
materialistic dogmas, yet he confessed a belief in a 
Deity ; but, like most skeptics, he was fickle and 
wavering upon this point. One day he would be a 
professed pantheist, while the following day he would 
be courting the theory of Mirabeau and Voltaire. He 
said the plan of salvation revealed in the New Testa- 
ment was too intricate and incomprehensible for him 
to rationally believe. He had heard great and good 
men affirm — though constant work in the ministry 
had brought them near the grave — that doubts would 
often arise in their minds as to whether they had 
preached the truth ; and his opinions were formed 
accordingly. 

If after man has lived a life of devotion to the 
cause of Christianity, and nothing tangible enough 
has been found to completely divest the heart of every 
doubt, he felt sure, with his strongly fortified infidel 
feeling, that he could never place his trust and transfer 
his confidence to anything so groundless, so incom- 
prehensible as the belief in a Messiah. Although as 
he sat there meditating upon this subject, the form of 
a beautiful, trusting girl rose before him, thrilling to 
life all the admiration of his heart, in electrifying 
from their normal state the earliest impressions made 
upon his mind ; yet his heart remained unthawed, 
untouched. 

The pastor announced for his text : “O death, 
where now thy sting ! O hades, where now thy vic- 
tory!” Looking long and anxiously over the little 
audience, he repeated his text with deep and pathetic 
solemnity. His discourse was brief but appropriate. 
No beautifully rounded sentences or graceful elo- 
quence touched or played upon the feelings of his 
hearers; but the gospel light and effect seemed to 
flash from every word, carrying deep conviction to 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


52 

the heart. lie referred to the sad cause of the pres- 
ent service, but thanked God that death had lost its 
pang, and that the grave claims upon victory had 
been frustrated by the death of One, who voluntarily 
shed His blood that the world might be saved, and 
the Prince of the power of the air subjugated. 

He extended thl? warmest sympathy to the young 
husband in his early bereavement, but assured him 
that “all things work together for good to them that 
love the Lord;” and, though the shroud of melancholy 
veiled cheerf’ulness from his heart, that he must not 
submit to grief. In the language of the king of 
poets ; 

“ ’Tis unmanly; 

It shows a will most incorrect to heaven, 

An understanding simple and unschooled.” 

But that, when his power and prayer had failed to 
bring relief, he should submit as cheerfully as did 
David when death took his beloved son. 

To Norman came these words of King David : 
“Farewell, ’tis hard to give thee up.” His heart took 
up their sad refrain and he listlessly followed their 
dying echo until his mind left, as it were, its dreary 
habitation and trod the unknown; he. heard not the 
consoling lines the preacher was giving in the words 
of the poet, 

“ He covered up bis face and bowed himself 
A moment on his child, then giving him 
A look of melting tenderness, he clasped 
His hands convulsively, as if in prayer; 

And, as if strength w^ere given him "of God, 

He rose up calmly and composed the pall 
Firmly and decently— and left him there — 

As if his rest had been a breathing sleep.” 

After vividly portraying the glories of heaven — 
the Christian’s home — he directed his thoughts to the 
mortality of the body and the immortality of the soul. 
Upon this subject he said “that man must live beyond 
this life ; there was nothing material or tangible in 
the world that could be subjected to complete annihi- 
lation ; inanimate nature was imbued with eternal 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


53 

existence ; a chip, lifeless and incapable of action, 
could not be destroyed; its form may change and to 
all appearance be completely exterminated from the 
realms of existence; but the sage and philosopher tell 
us nothing can be lost in nature ; then is the human 
soul of less value than wood? the human mind of 
less value than the clay in which it dwells? Virgil 
wrote centuries ago. Though his body has crumbled 
to dust beneath the soft skies of Italy, his writings 
are as fresh and forcible as the day they were writ- 
ten ; then is it just to say that the mind that gave 
birth and existence to ideas that have immortalized his 
name among men, perished as his material body passed 
away ? Can the less contain the greater ? His thoughts, 
his ideas, the result of his labors live to influence and 
win admiration for the ancient poet ; but is it rational 
to say his mind — the power that gave us his writings 
— does not exist? And all that remains of the gifted 
Virgil are the few extracts of his writings that now 
can be found in our libraries !” He said “that he would 
take God’s revelation to man from the discussion and 
prove there was a God, that man was an immortal 
soul, that his life in a future state would be as he had 
moulded it in this.” 

Here his eyes dwelt on Norman, the good old 
man knew the depraved condition of his heart. Nor- 
man heeded not his divine Christian philosophy ; his 
soul slept on in stubborn indifference. 

The services closed with a warm and fervent 
prayer, then the bier was removed to the church -yard 
where a fresh dug grave received it. 

“The grave, dread thing ! Men shiver when thou 
art named, nature, appalled, shakes off her wonted 
firmness.” 

Could Alice Wellington have looked into the 
cold, cheerless grave, that had been prepared to receive 
her body, she would not have been affrighted, or stood 
speechless upon its sad brink ; for to her it was but the 
receptacle of a soulless, spiritless body ; boding no 
dreaded encounters, early in life she renounced the 
world and trusted her soul in its infantile purity to 


54 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


Jesus. Beyond the grave, high on the hills of immor- 
tality, she had prepared herself to live in peace and 
luxury, bathed in the splendor and delightful temper- 
ature of Heaven. Her trust was perfect, entire, her 
life ever conformed to her faith ; now, freed from its 
tenement of clay, her soul reposed in the presence of 
Him, whose voice led her through the turbulent scenes 
of earth. Heaven, oh, most comprehensive word to 
the soul was attained by her, if Heaven is to be gain- 
• ed by mortal. 

“Immortality o’er sleeps 
All pains, all fears, all time, all tears, and peals 
lake the eternal thunders of the deep. 

Into my ears this truth, ‘ Thou livest forever.’ ” 


CHAPTER VI. 

NORMAN WELLINGTON AT ROSEDALE. 

Alas what stay is there in human state 
Or who can shun inevitable fate ? 

The doom was written, the decree was past 
Ere the foundations of the world were cast. 

— Dryden. 

A short time after Norman had seen his wife laid 
away in her last resting place, he disposed of his busi- 
ness interest in the city, and re-invested his money in 
stocks and bonds. After this he returned to his quiet, 
country cottage intending to live a retired, secluded 
life. The first few months of his seclusion he saw no 
one except the servants. Time passed by on 
golden wings, as sorrow threw her mantle over 
his face — for he seemed to find perfect contentment in 
solitude. _ But, alas ! this blissful reign of peace, of 
the deliverance of human life from its real purposes, 
motives, and painful experiences — as all things earth- 
ly do — must yield its crown to whom the fates have 
ordained ; thus he was again thrown out upon the 
shifting ocean of life exposed to all its breakers and 
perils. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 55 

Autumn had superseded summer, and was almost 
verging into gloomy winter, when a card, bearing the 
name “Richard Allen,” was handed him. 

“Show the gentleman into the reception room, 
I will come down presently,” was his dismissal to the 
servant. 

Without giving a thought to the cause of the 
wealthy banker and proprietor of Rosedale’s visit, he 
proceeded to the reception room. 

Mr. Allen had just seated himself in a large rock- 
ing chair near the window that opened on the pike, 
when Norman entered. He arose, gracefully held 
out his hand, saying, “I am glad to see you. 
I trust the shadow of your bereavement has passed 
away by this time, and that you will soon feel cheer- 
ful enough to seek your old haunts again. 

Norman smiled sadly as he replied : “Many 
thanks for your kind wishes and the pleasant surprise 
of seeing you this morning, but I do not think I shall 
ever again go in business.” 

“You do not mean that, certainly, Mr. Welling- 
ton. Why, for a man of your youth, capabilities and 
energy, to retire to private life, would be to sacrifice 
your self for naught. If you would but accept 
some one of the various opportunities at all times 
open to men of your capacity, it would not be long 
until your present grief would vanish as a summer 
cloud. We cannot live without seeing those we love 
cut down by the harvester — death. It is as natural to 
die as it is to live. Death is essential to life ; we live 
only to die. You, as well as I, realize fully that 
death must come ; it is inevitable. Then why suc- 
cumb to grief ; rather rise above it and live in the 
present.” 

“ Is it better to grasp the chain of life or one of 
its links Shall we acknowledge the past, the pres- 
ent, and the future or simply endeavor to enjoy the 
present.^ Such a yiew to my mind is narrow — ” 

Mr. Allen moving impatiently and without giv- 
ing Norman time to reply further, interrupted : 
“Have you been here during the whole time since 


56 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

your wife’s death? I have missed you in the city, 
but have been pressed with so many cares I did not 
make any inquiries about you.” 

Norman, a little astonished that his banker and 
immediate neighbor should have occasion to ask such 
a question, said ; “Yes ; I have been here since I closed 
out my business.” 

“You don’t think of remaining here,” rejoin.ed 
Mr. Allen. 

“I have nothing else in view now,” he answered. 

Norman Wellington could have told Mr. Allen 
that he was mistaken as to the cause of his present 
seclusion and sorrow, but acting under the proverbial 
sayings of Solomon he “held his tongue,” while all 
the tender feelings of his noble, yet human nature 
aroused in regret for the contretemps that took his 
wife from this world, and if it had been possible to 
have called her back to his side he would have done 
so. He felt if that part of his life, in which she was 
his companion, couid be lived over again he would 
devote more of his time to her happiness ; but there 
was no deep, longing regret, no aching void in his 
heart, that another could not supply. 

Mr. Allen hesitated a moment before continuing 
the conversation, looking doubtfully into Norman’s 
face, as if trying to fathom some mystery or read his 
thoughts. He began, “you will doubtless think me 
presumptuous when you have heard the import of this 
morning’s mission, yet I hope you will attribute all to 
my confidence in your sagacious business tact.” 

Here he paused, then said: “For some time I have 
been contemplating a visit to the West India Islands, 
but my home affairs were such that I had to postpone 
its execution for a more favorable time. My plans 
are to go now and remain during the winter ; but, be- 
fore going I want to employ some one, whom I know 
is reliable, to give his pesonal suprervision to some 
important matters during my absence. As the business 
would not detain you in the city during the night, I 
thought perhaps you would give it your attention 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 57 

until my return.” This last was uttered in a ques- 
tioning tone. 

The dreamy expression cleared away from Nor- 
man’s face ; it lighted with seeming interest under 
the influence of Mr. Allen’s remarks. “What did the 
rich banker mean by this demonstration of confi- 
dence,” was the question he propounded to himself 
before offering to reply. “Mr. Allen,” he began, in a 
tone implying hesitancy and discomposure, “I feel very 
grateful for the trust, whatever it may be, you would 
confer upon me ; but I had thought I would never go 
out into the business world again. I came here to re- 
main forever, feeling that I would be happier here 
than any where else ; but, during the last few days, 
my feelings on this subject have undergone a change ; 
so, if by giving you a few months of my time, I can 
be of service lo you I will consider your proposi- 
tion.” 

“ I feel that if you take advantage of the oppor- 
tunity proposed, you will not only have respite from 
your grief, but you will soon hold it in subjection. 
As I before stated, my business is not of that nature 
to confine you in the city at night ; and as Mrs. 
Allen and Miss Iris will be at Rosedale they would 
appreciate the relief from loneliness which your com- 
panionship would supply.” 

At the mention of those two names Norman’s 
face brightened still more, as he involuntarily said, 
“Gratification only smiles upon those who feel they 
have done their duty. It has always been my highest 
aim to perform with exactness the requirements im- 
posed upon me ; so if I accept this trust, which I 
promise to do provided my skill will admit of it, you 
may rest assured that I will do all in my power to 
promote your interest and sustain your business in its 
present status, during your absence. I think I would 
enjoy spending my evenings here, yet if my gloomy 
presence will impart one ray of cheerfulness to your 
family, I will remain at Rosedale.” 

It was noon when Norman and Richard Allen 
separated. Before leaving, Mr. Allen gave his new 


58 1 $ MARRIAGE A FAlLtfRE ? 

business manager in minute detail, the responsibilities 
he would leave with him ; closing the conversation by 
saying ; 

“ I will leave this evening. Come over and see 
me off.” 

Norman thanked him with the promise that he 
would do so. It was late that afternoon when Nor- 
man closed the gate behind him on his way to Rose- 
dale. The soft autumnal breeze, murmuring the fu- 
neral song of day, the sad requiem of over-flying birds 
and the withered leaves falling from the stately trees, 
seeking graves in the yet green grass, filled his heart 
with depression ; he was almost sorry he had given his 
consent to leave Elmwood. Once he turned and 
looked back upon the lonely cottage he was leaving ; 
but remembering his promise he firmly continued his 
way, determining in his own mind to forget the 
unhappy state of his feelings. 

Soon he entered the gate that opened on the 
handsome grounds he had so often admired. Looking 
up at the elegant mansion which confronted him, he 
was surprised to see the carriage standing ready 
to bear Mr. Allen to the train. lie quickened 
his step, hoping to reach the house b-fore his em- 
ployer left the drawing room ; but just as he was in 
the act of ascending the broad stone steps, the hall 
door opened disclosing Mr. Allen, Lois and Iris. In- 
stantly he drew back to meet them on the walk. 

“ Not true to promise, but late,” spoke Mr. Allen 
as he came opposite Norman. 

Raising his hat to the ladies, Norman apologeti- 
cally said : “ I was not aware you would start quite so 
early, or I would have come sooner ; however I am 
happy to be here thus near your departure.” 

The banker taking hold of his friend’s arm, they 
walked in advance leaving the ladies to follow alone. 
When the carriage was reached, he turned to Norman 
and the ladies and said : “My time is limited and ne- 
cessity will force me away without further conversa- 
tion unless you can go with me to the station.” 

“ The trio gave a unanimous consent; for the first 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


59 

part of the distance Mr. Allen advised Norman con- 
cerning the business he was leaving in his charge, 
after which he gave his attention to Lois and Iris. At 
the close of the journey he left his wife and Iris in 
Mr. Wellington’s care ; addressing Norman he said : 
“I may not return until April, perhaps later. During 
my absence, Mrs. Allen and Iris will be lonely with 
no other attendants except servants, and as you need 
the society of congenial associates to mitigate your 
grief, I suggest that you make your home at Rosedale 
during the gloomy hours of winter.” 

Norman, thinking perhaps Lois or Iris would re- 
ply, hesitated before answering. But as they were 
painfully silent, he said: “If my presence at Rose- 
dale will not be objectionable to Mrs. Allen and Miss 
Earle, I will not reconsider my promise of this morn- 
ing, but will desert Elmwood, with its quiet influ- 
ences, and find pleasure in giving your family such 
services as will be appreciated.” 

Lois, turning her soft, dark eyes upon Norman, 
answered for both. “Thank you, Mr. Wellington, we 
appreciate your kind consideration for us, and in re- 
turn promise to make you cheerful to the extent of 
our morose natures.” 

Iris did not speak, she kept her eyes fixed upon 
her sister’s face, noting its paleness and the breathless 
interest it indicated in the conversation. A strange, 
dreadful foreboding pressed painfully upon her heart. 
What it was she did not know; but a mysterious relation 
existing between the human mind and future events 
told her that all was not well — that Norman Welling- 
ton should never become an inmate of Rosedale — 
that his presence would bring heinous sorrow, if not 
disgrace. 

Their journey was ended ; the carriage stood at 
the station just in time to make connection with the 
south-bound train. Hurriedly the good-byes were 
said and he made his exit. There was, no trace of 
feeling in his farewell words ; his eyes, were as cold 
and his face as stoical in expression as though those 
he was leaving were utmost strangers.. The three 


6o 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


watched him as he forced his way through the surg- 
ing crowd that thronged the passage way, until his 
form was no longer distinguishable from others. The 
coachman waited for the departure of the train that 
bore his master away, before reining his horses home- 
ward. 

An almost silent drive was theirs. In vain Nor- 
man attempted to draw Iris out of the dream-like 
cloud that enveloped her ; every effort was futile. 
Her prophetic mind dwelt in the future ; though the 
mystical hieroglyphics fate held before her eyes were 
incomprehensible to her pure mind, she felt their 
shadow and shrank from their realization. 

Several weeks have passed since Mr. Allen’s de- 
parture ; things have moved smoothly at Rosedale. 
On this evening, tea had been served in the conserva- 
tory. Having partaken of the nerve-resting beverage 
the trio were in the library discussing the events of the 
day, when the postman arrived from the station. 
There was a letter or two for Iris, an evening paper 
for Mr. Wellington, and a number of letters for Mr. 
Allen, which were handed to Lois. She hurriedly 
glanced over the postmarks and addresses, as rapidly 
giving them to Norman, until she came to the last 
one. 

It bore a foreign seal. Something in the irregu- 
lar but delicately executed chirography excited her 
attention and interest; looking ‘around at Iris and 
Mr. Wellington to see if they had observed the hesi- 
tating, momentary view with which she considered 
the dubious postmark — observing their attention 
chained to matters of their own, she clipped the en- 
velope with a pair of small silver scissors, that lay 
near her on an oval table inlaid with richest marble. 
Its contents disclosed in her lap, the thought involun- 
tarily rushed to her mind, “This was not her letter; it 
was addressed to her husband. Was she doing right 
to read it in his absence? Would it not be more like 
conforming to the strictest rules of integrity to keep 
her eyes from its contents?” 

Blit overcome by sheer curiosity, she suddenly 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 6l 

unfolded it. The writing was plain and neatly exe- 
cuted? it was evidently the impress of a lady’s hand. 
Looking upon the last page of the strange missive for 
a signature, she involuntarily read, 

“Once Yours, 

Anna Martin.” 

Agitated almost beyond self-government, she 
thrust it into a small hand-pocket, designing to take 
it to her room. Raising the soft eyes that a few mo- 
ments since were so abstract and absent in their pale 
glow, now animated with the keenest interest, and 
annoyed with an intimidation which, when the doubts 
and mystery of its birth were removed, would lend 
an impetus to the consuming fire of chagrin and dire 
astonishment destined to add a double and secret sor- 
row to an already shadowed life, she marked the atti- 
tude and expression of her companions. Satisfied 
that her actions had passed unobserved, she affected an 
interest in one of George Eliot’s novels. The book 
rested in her white, jeweled hands ; her eyes were 
fixed upon its pages, but there was a mechanical stare 
about them that betrayed the mind’s wanderings. 

She had not long kept up this counterfeit con- 
cern, when Iris observed to Mr. Wellington, “Sister 
Lois is certainly oblivious to the existence of real, 
substantial beings in her presence, or her finer sensi- 
bilities would remind her of one of the primary rules 
of politeness.” 

“ Perhaps her investigation now is but a continu- 
ation of a theme she laid aside when last in the libra- 
ry. Then you must know I am to make my home at 
Rosedale, and shall not expect any formal attention,” 
added Norman. 

At the sound of Norman’s voice Lois looked up 
half smiling ; attempting to appear pleasant, she 
closed her book and said, “As I had no invitation to 
participate in your engagements, I thought to enter- 
tain myself with a chapter in Romola until you had 
read your mail. You know selfishness frequently 
supercedes politeness.” 


62 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

“ Why, Lois, did you not get a letter?^’ ejaculated 

Iris. 

Norman noticing, without divining its meaning, 
the deep flush that, like an electric flash, mounted to 
her cheek, covered her confusion by asking, “Have 
you never read RomolaP’ 

“ No, sir,” breathed Lois, “but I have read other 
books by. the same authoress.” 

Norman, not wishing the conversation to close, 
again enquired, “Do you like her as a delineator of 
character?” 

Forgetting her excitement, she began to be much 
interested in the direct questions Norman successively 
submitted to her. “I am not very familiar with her 
writings ; perhaps not enough to venture an opinion ; 
but to the extent of my acquaintance she has but few 
equals in literature. Sir Walter Scott has written 
Kenilworth, rich with descriptions of antiquated 
courts and castles ; but George Eliot has Adam Bede, 
pregnant with delineation of character. Dickens has 
even exaggerated the worst deformities of life ; 
Thackeray has made improbabilities become the 
expectation of all ; and a host of lesser lights in the 
galaxy of literary aspiration have divine heroes and 
heroines whose deeds are but the spark of honor, and 
whose lives are but the reflex of incarnate nature. 
Not so with George Eliot; she has taken man and his 
helpmate, woman, clothed in their garb of flesh just as 
they were exiled from the lost garden, rendering to 
them a life that corresponds with the controlling cir- 
cumstances of this, eliminating from her books fault- 
less heroines without a real counterpart.” 

“ Lois, how fickle you are ! When we read Adam 
Bede together you expressed indignant disapprobation 
of it,” exclaimed Iris. 

“ I think you do me quite an injustice. Iris. 
Christian and pagan philosophers have mutually 
agreed upon evolution. This unavoidably suggests a 
primary, intermediate and advanced stage in the de- 
velopment of intellectual material; change in sympa- 
thy with advanced thought does not propose capri- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 63 

ciousness; but it is simply a confirmation of the de- 
claration that the world, and all that is in it, was not 
made in one day. To be orthodox you must not be- 
lieve that the universe is in the iron grasp of inflexi- 
ble laws. Then, why not accede to its inhabitants 
the free rights of speech? When we read Adam 
Bede I was young, both in years and experience. 
Since that time my mind has matured with a more 
extended observation, and I am disposed neither to 
exaggerate nor conceal facts, but upon every ques- 
tion of ethics to accept what is rationally true.” 

“ Sister, I confess my mind is not charged with 
a sufficient quantity of combustible material to ex- 
plode your philosophy ; but, be it as it may, fickleness 
seems to me the only appropriate name for these an- 
tipodal opinions.” Turning to Mr. Wellington she 
added, “I hope your incisive comprehension of meta- 
physics will not be too fully exercised at my stu- 
pidity.” 

“ Perhaps you are both right ; you in your can- 
dor, Mrs. Allen in her philosophy.” 

“Mr. Wellington, you are too direct. I shall de- 
clare immediate war with you,” rejoined Iris. 

“Will it be a war of physical strength? If so, I 
am ready to consider terms of reconciliation. But if 
it is to be a fray of mental ingenuity, I will implore 
Mrs. Allen’s aid, feeling assured she will give you an 
opportunity for the exhaustive application of your 
mental efficacy.” 

Lois laughingly said, “I shall be at your service.” 

Iris, feeling a slight tincture of annoyance at the 
combination, rejoined, before Norman had time to ex- 
press his thanks to Lois, “In either combat I am sure 
I would gallantly receive your swords ; but for the 
present I declare a truce.” 

The clock was just striking ten when Norman 
bade the lad:es adieu. He walked softly up the long, 
winding stairs ; when he reached his room a cheerful 
fire burned in the grate. Its warm glow was not re- 
flected in his soul ; he felt sad, lonely and wearied ; 
sad, because his heart had been touched with an omen 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


64 

bearing on its sails much unhappiness ; lonely, because 
he had found a true mate to his heart ; one whose 
soul, in all its complexity of mechanism, corresponded 
to the'divine light of his own being, a companion in 
all the import of that word ; but O ! what an insur- 
mountable obstacle between them ! what a dark chasm 
rolled between — over which there was no passage ex- 
cept to launch his vessel on the muddy, fetid sea, 
where none ever sail but whose insignia is sin^ sin, 
SIN ; wearied, because across his life was written, 
“Here sorrow has her crown, sin her sceptre,” defy- 
ing happiness ; “Come thou not this way.” 

Throwing himself into a plain rocking chair that 
had been drawn near the fire, he sat for a few mo- 
ments in solitary, profound study. Presently he fold- 
ed his hands across his breast and began to move rest- 
lessly across the room, meditating ; “O, had I never 

consented to come to this place, where the trees, the 
fountains, and the atmosphere are laden with her per- 
fume. Lois Allen, you have awakened a heart from 
its dreamless slumber, and administered a tonic whose 
perpetual influence will rival that of light and heat. 
Fair bird, the heart that thou hast so gently awoke 
can never sleep more. I cannot go away now ; I 
shall remain to discharge the demands of the old 
banker’s business. But as soon as my time expires I 
will go away, never again to return to these enchant- 
ing scenes.” 

Had Norman Wellington known the future, with 
its vast train of innumerable sorrows and conflicts 
consequent upon his remaining one day longer at 
Rosedale, he would not have waited the rising of an- 
other sun, but would have rushed madly, wildly away. 
Incumbered with the ignorance of finite discretion — 
impressed with the moral conviction of logically 
complying with the letter of his promise, without 
considering the subtle influence of love — impressed 
with the potency of his own volition, and trusting to 
the permanency of a resolution based upon human 
integrity, he, unfortunately, without meditation, 
>vithout decision, woye his own destiny. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


6s 

The following morning Norman rose early and 
went out for a stroll. He hoped the pure morning 
air, crisp with the breath of coming winter, would 
refresh body and mind from the lassitude produced by 
the sleepless night. It was a lovely morning; the 
sun was pouring his rays of light in exuberant 
splendor and warmth, as if to impart new life to the 
withering vegetation that had blighted under the 
mild October frost. Entranced by the final tragedy 
of dying night, and by serious meditation over 
thoughts suggested by the falling leaves, he uncon- 
sciously prolonged his wanderings beyond his original 
intention. When he retraced his steps in rapid move- 
ment the sun had noiselessly climbed far above the 
stately bee-^hes, lavishing his lustrous rays in profuse 
cheerfulness. 

As he entered the gate that enclosed him within 
Rosedale premises all was still but the bubbling foun- 
tain, that sent up its silvery sprays into the morning 
stillness,- glistening like diamonds in the sunlight. 
As he paused to steep his soul in admiration, he 
descried a faultless figure reposing upon a rustic seat 
beneath the spreading boughs of a superb magnolia, 
attired in a morning robe of exquisite taste. In her 
hand she held a cluster of heliotrope and apple gera- 
nium leaves, inhaling their delicate fragrance. It was 
Lois. Before he could obey the injunction of h?s will 
a soft, melodious voice recognized him with a saluta- 
tion few men could resist. “Come,” spoke Lois, “and 
enjoy some of the morning freshness of the exquisite 
charms that linger about this enchanted spot.” 

“ Thank you, Mrs. Allen, I am rarely ever com- 
plimented so highly.” 

“Your concession confers a pleasure never ten- 
dered before,” she responded as he came to occupy the 
seat near her. Laughingly she continued, “But do 
not let my flattery disseminate seeds of egotism, for 
my rest was disturbed last night. I am now trying to 
get up a reaction.” 

“ It seems the night carried us through a similar 
experience ; and you are now out on the same mission 


66 


IS MARRIAGB A FAILURE? 


as I — seeking the beauties of the morning to dispel 
the oppressing thoughts of the night,” responded 
Norman. 

Lois’ face paled as she retrospectively considered 
the past few years of her life; though a sad smile cut 
its shadow about her mouth, there was no semblance 
of it in her voice as she replied : “Great ships plough 
deep waters; probably the coincidence is owing to some 
invisible similarity pertaining to the undercurrent of 
our nature.” Recklessly her thoughts fell from her 
lips ; had not her face falsified her heart, the eager 
listener would have entered its sacred precincts. 

“ Oh, Mrs. Allen, give me the keys which will 
unlock the vaults in which are treasured human 
thoughts, and I will show you something similar in 
every human manifestation. We all have impressions 
made by flowers, sorrow, nature, love, and the beauti- 
ful, which we cannot express, that have a correspond- 
ing likeness.” 

Interruptingly Lois asked : “Mr. Wellington, 
you like very much to act as presiding judge upon 
weighty matters? Your discrimination between error 
and truth upon the finest points in polemics admirably 
qualify you for the position.” 

This sudden change in the theme discussed com- 
pletely mystified Norman. He almost felt her words 
were devoid of truth and replete with irony. Yet he 
smiled as he said: “State your case, and I will ren- 
der a verdict while in the attitude of fasting.” 

“ Have I been so thoughtlessly cruel as to detain 
you from breakfast? Come, I will serve you mv- 
self.” 

“ A rich compensation for waiting, and I am sure 
my breakfast will be doubly appreciated, but let us 
not forget the proposition you have to submit to me,” 
he reminded. 

“ Do not laugh when I submit my grievances, for 
while they may seem very insignificant to you, they 
are still a part of myself. To night there is to be an 
entertainment at the Masonic theatre. Iris and I 
have had an altercation about the expediency of go- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 67 

ing. I want to go ; Iris declines. I will abide your 
decision.” 

“What is the subject of the play?” inquired 
Norman. 

“ Lady of Lyons,” responded Lois. 

“ A story of love and pride,” involuntarily ex- 
claimed Norman. Looking down into the lustrous 
eyes and rose tinted face all aglow with queenly 
beauty, he asked with questioned propriety, “Have 
you either?” 

When Christ said to Nicodemus, “Art thou a 
teacher of Israel, and understandest these things 
not?” he did not confuse the Jewish doctor more than 
Norman Wellington perplexed his auditress as the 
self-interpreting text implied, “Art thou a woman and 
understandest not these things?” 

With wonderful equanimity, she promptly met 
the qnestion: “The fride but not the love^'^ fell in 
quick, decided tones upon his ear. 

Jestingly laughed Norman ; “I don’t think any 
lady’s vocabulary complete without both. Suppose 
we go.” Lois gave a ready consent. 

The evening was spent in the usual way ; reading 
and conversation consumed most of the trio’s time 
when Mr. Wellington was with them. To day his 
work had not called him to the city. 

To day had recorded the awakening of Norman’s 
soul from its dreamy stupor of mercenary motives; a 
world, ripe with beauty, entertaining in social repar- 
tee, and inviting to a tired merchant just emerging from 
the commercial whirl-pools, lay in panoramic display 
before him. 

All the evening the words, “The pride, but not 
the love,” in mysterious notes, in wonderful, sublime 
sweetness, were sung to his heart. A soft, musical 
voice would whisper from some lost zephyr — “love — 
love, thou canst conquer pride.’* Along the bounding 
lines of his soul, a thrill of bliss, blended with sweet- 
ness divine, would pass, pause, and like dew, distill 
until the heart was submerged with ineffable 
rapture. 


CHAPTER VII. 


AT THE THEATRE. 

“Ivove has no thought of self— 

Love buys not with ruthless usurer’s gold, 

The loathsome prostitution of a hand without a heart. 

— Lord Lytton. 

The sun had just buried himself in the brassy- 
rim that belted the west, the soft twilight was unfold- 
ing its velvet mantle for a short sway, when the hand- 
somely equipped carriage appeared at the gate. Nor- 
man, Lois and Iris — Iris had been forced to yield 
through love for her sister — were waiting in the hall, 
admiring some quaint old pictures under the changing 
light of the dying day. 

At the noise of wheels they simultaneously mov- 
ed towards the entrance ; soon they were reclining 
amid the luxurious cushions of the carriage. The 
groom, having reined the graceful roan steeds until 
they almost danced in their silver and gold glittering 
harness, now whispered, hissingly, “Go swiftly the 
carriage rolled away. 

As they passed Elmwood, Norman’s eyes invol- 
untarily wandered across the field to where Alice 
peacefully slept in the frigid, apathetic arm of death ; 
his eyes filled with unshed tears as his heart stirred in 
sympathy for his poor, dead wife. He thought (prob- 
ably for the first time in life) that if there was a 
heaven he would like to meet her there ; he was sure, 
if there was such a place in the realms of the universe 
she was there ; and as he looked out through the crys- 
tal windows into the dull, leaden eastern sky, relieved 
now and then by the faint glimmer of a rising star, 
he wondered what she was doing in that city of dis- 
embodied spirits, and if her eyes were wandering from 
their home of shimmering emeralds and pearls, into 
the dust and grief lined* ways of earth. 

“To night are her seraphic eyes following me,” 
was his irrepressible thought. “No ; he could not be- 
lieve the dead'possessed an interest in the living ; such 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 69 

a monstrous doctrine was the legitimate child of the 
twin sisters — superstition and ignorance. Human 
life is en ire, complete ; there is no continuation of 
wrecked and blighted aims in an unseen world, — lo- 
cated by some ambitious and visionary'astronomers at 
the center of the universe.” These reflections came to 
Norman all in a moment ; they entered his soul by the 
mysterious influences of the past, and flashed across 
his mind by the electrical recurrences of unforgotten 
periods in his history. 

The fading twilight concealed the powerful con- 
tending emotions that contracted and expanded the 
linaments of his face, from Lois and Iris. But opposite 
to him, a pair of soft dark eyes, with dove like in- 
nocence, paneled into a face of alabaster whiteness of 
Venus type, that reclined half ensconced on a creamy 
pillow, beheld a glistening tear as it rolled down the 
unfurrowed cheek where grief had but few traces. 
Lois did not speak ; tired of the long silence, her lips 
in another moment, would have framed words calling 
for a reply ; now she closed her eyes in half smothered 
and forbidden curiosity to know tj.e meaning of that 
tear ; she was not mistaken — the veil of dusky eve 
was not too thick for her not to discern the form and 
character of an ordinary manifestation ; she was cer- 
tain it was a tear. 

The last vestige of day was gone ere they arrived 
ih the city ; but being too early for the entertainment 
they proposed to enjoy the intervening time in loitering 
along the most fashionable streets. Iris was convivial, 
congenial and social ; Lois tender, reticent and pru- 
dent. As they slowly passed from one thoroughfare 
to another they changed the subject of conversation 
often, treating upon each with flippant indifference. 

When for the fourth time they paused opposite 
the Masonic it was 8 o’clock ; the music from a well 
drilled band came up through the amphitheatre and 
down the large hall-way, reaching the ears of all who 
passed the door. With hearts enraptured in antici- 
pation of sublime experiences, they entered, passing 


70 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


along the aisle of the parquette until they were ush- 
ered into their private box. 

Many eyes turned upon them in questioning gaze. 
Many who had passed them on the street unnoticed, 
now adjusted their opera glasses to recognize them. 
The music from the orchestra had ceased ; the vast 
sea of faces sat in silent expectation. Iris was study- 
ing the picture of an old castle by the sea that deco- 
rated the curtain; she imagined she could see the 
waves whirling and tossing in their fury, and she was 
certain there was the rock-hewn steps leading from 
the water’s edge into the castle ; there was the wild, 
forest-covered bluff in the background. So well 
executed was the work of the artist her mind almost 
conceived the shadow as the substance. 

Lois was seated at her side with her eyes placed 
in studious intentness upon her face. Lois never 
wearied admiring Iris ; she fully comprehended her 
life in its lofty purity and sacrifice of self ; though 
she knew her face was like her sister’s, she knew also 
that it did not mirror a soul as spotless. 

Norman sat in front of them, with his face half 
hidden in the folds of a curtain which gracefully 
draped the column against which he leaned ; thoughts 
of the past had vanished from his mind. The music 
that had just ceased, nor the artistic display of his 
environments held him ; but the two faces before 
him chained his soul in a transport of study. His- 
tory, nature, nor artistic ingenuity has not bequeathed 
to man a subject so admirably adapted to his consid- 
eration as a woman’s face, beneath which the soul 
dies, animates, surges and exhausts until each emo- 
tion is reproduced in a facial expression. Here hu- 
man history epitomizes itself; here nature’s sternest 
laws are enacted, and here is executed the law that 
advances civilization and purifies society, also the law 
that makes man a suicidal brute and prostitutes soci- 
ety’s safeguards; here emotions pass along the 
magnetic current of human impulse which blights 
hope, and here flash aspirations by which the plastic 


IS marriage a failure? 7t 

soul is fitted for life in one of the beautiful cottages 
of heaven. 

Norman, so absorbed in the marvelous exactness 
of the two faces, was totally oblivious to the scenes 
around him. Suddenly the thought pierced his mind 
that he was free to marry again ; his wife had been 
dead two years, and a companion, bearing the holy 
name, wife, would do much to dispel the gloom that 
was settling over him. But whom would he seek to 
bear his name ? His eyes were fixed upon Lois ; then 
came the sad, bitter thought, she was already a wife. 
That he loved her as he never could or had loved an- 
other, he confessed to himself, but he would never 
breathe the fatal secret, he would keep a watch over 
his actions and withhold all the fond attention he de- 
sired to show her Then Iris flashed across his mind, 
and he wondered why he did not think of her first. 
She was not married, and no possible sin could blight 
the promise to love her. She was the exact, the per- 
fect image of her sister ; no one who knew them 
was able to distinguish them through natural or ex- 
ternal means. 

Their most intimate acquaintances, beginning 
with Mr. Allen, down through housekeeper, servants, 
and ending with the amazed stranger, were alike often 
perplexed as they unconsciously reproduced the Com- 
edy of Errors. . Norman reasoned that if he loved 
Lois he could love Iris also ; there was no plausible, 
tangible reason why he could not. 

Though Norman Wellington prided himself upon 
the logical cast of his mind, he was often erratic. 
While he was a very close student of human nature, 
he was after all very inaccurate. When he resolved 
to transfer the forbidden love he had unintentionally 
acknowledged for Lois, he little thought of his ina- 
bility to do so ; he did not know that love was a prin- 
ciple, an eternal reason of divine origin and applica- 
tion — not a mere emotion — the result of culture, asso- 
ciation, resolve, or volition. Had he have stayed the 
hasty decision one moment to have questioned : “How 
mysteriously have I been fascinated by Lois; since 


72 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

that first morning I saw her, I have loved her. . She 
half unburies a past,” he would have known it 
was the soul, not the face, that seeks its kindred spirit 
even here. 

Norman was aroused to a sense of reality by a 
voice from the stage. Adjusting himself to a posture 
of convenience, he discovered a scene of dramatic 
effect and interest, and in the artistic arrangement of 
the drawing-room furniture a display of studied and 
inborn taste. 

The scene was in Madam Dechapelle’s house. 
Pauline was reclining on a sofa, Marian fanning her. 
An exquisite bouquet of hothouse flowers, luxuriant 
in fragrance, was on a table beside her. 

Lois whispered to Norman, “Mr. Wellington, I 
believe you told me you were familiar with the 
drama?” 

Norman bowed an assent. 

She continued: “You must prompt me if I fail to 
get the idea intended to be reproduced.”, 

Norman smiled as he modulated his voice to hers. 
“I am sure that I will be very much pleased to assist 
you to a thorough comprehension and appreciation; 
but I understand that each actor will sustain his role 
with that skill and natural genius which never fails 
to captivate.” 

“ How beautiful she is !” exclaimed Iris. 

“ A wealthy French nobleman, of royal blood, on 
suppliant knees entreats the daughter of a tradesman 
for her hand,” added Lois. 

“ She rejects him,” reflected Norman. 

“There is honor — even a burning principle of self- 
respect — in the low-born. No name to sell ; but an 
honor that cannot be purchased with sordid wealth,” 
passionately interposed Iris. 

“Hush, sister. You are too Utopian ; not prac- 
tical enough,” ejaculated Lois. 

But in Lois Allen’s heart there was a dreadful 
question which she had never answered. Once she 
was a poor girl, destitute of the royalty wealth brings 
— nothing except her beauty. • A man came to her 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


73 

with money ; an illusive fancy filled her soul. She 
imagined she loved him, and in her innocent girlhood, 
being over persuaded it was woman’s highest aim to 
marry, she became the miserable wife of Richard 
Allen. 

Tonight these thoughts rushed into her mind as 
they had never done before. Once she almost breathed 
in an audible whisper : “I would have been happier 
not to have come here tonight. All that I have seen 
sears upon the soiled sheet of conscience a deeper re 
gret for my mistake — a sad awakening that pours 
down upon my head the follies and mistakes of a 
misappropriated life. The chimerical illusion, the 
glamour of love,' the magnetic influence that always 
heralds a man of wealth and position into favor, have 
flown, leaving not a tracfe of my first fancy. What 
have I before me now ! Nothing but a living death. 
A life to live burdened with intolerable duty — a life 
to live in which the dew of happiness is cut off by a 
wall as high as heaven.” 

“ See,” said Iris, “how inexpressibly mean is 
man. Artful, scheming brute ! I hope poverty will 
yet vindicate itself. No ; yes; Melnote yields and 
the plot is consummated against defenseless Pauline.” 

“No,” said Norman, thinking of what would yet 
come. “Melnote is not a total reprobate; he will 
right the wrong and unfold his colors to a good end.” 

“ Better end well with a bad beginning than end 
badly with a good beginning,” suggested Lois. 

“Ah, ha!” laughed Iris; “The prince, all grace 
and suavity, acts his new role to perfection. A real 
prince of St. Petersburg would not be more at home. 
Listen; hear him describe his palace on lake Como.” 

“A palace lifting to eternal summer 
Its marble walls from glassy bower 
Of costliest foliage, musical, with birds 
Whose songs should syllable thy name 1 
At noon sit beneath the arching vines and wonder 
Why earth could be unhappy, while the heavens 
Still left us youth and love. We’d read no books 
That were not tales of love — that we might smile 
To think how poorly eloquence of words 


74 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


Translate the poetry of hearts like ours. 

And when night came amidst the breathless heavens 
We’d guess what star would become our home 
When love becomes immortal ! While the perfumed light 
Stole through the mist of alabaster lamps, 

And every air was heavy with sighs 
Of orange groves, and music, from sweet lutes, 

And murmurs of low fountains that gush forth 
In the midst of roses. Dost thou like the picture?” 

“ Ingeniously acted,” remarked Norman. 

“Oh, mercy!” exclaimed Lois, “Does she love 
him?” 

“Listen,” he continues : 

“Oh, as the bee upon the flower, I hang 

Upon the honey of thy eloquent tongue! 

Am I not blest? And if I love too wildly? 

AVho would not love one like thee, Pauline? 

Lois threw herself back into the seat she had al- 
most deserted. All animation dying out of her face, 
she whispered in breathless exhaustion, “Mr. Wel- 
lington, I am tired ; I cannot wait for the last act. 
Let us go home.” There was a strange, smothered 
light in her eyes — a pale, weary sadness about her 
lips that told the too oft repeated story of over- 
excitement. 

Melnote’s next words touched not the souls of 
Lois and Mr. Wellington. Though Norman’s eyes 
were apparently fixed on Lois’ face, he saw it not, 
nor heard her wailing cry. The misty waters of the 
past dashed in mountain waves o’er him, bearing on 
their bosom the shadowy remembrance of his boy- 
hood that ever perplexed his mind ; now, as ever, he 
tried to fathom the panoramic view, and snatch the 
connecting link by which he might, as it were, unfold 
the*future. 

Thus held, he saw not the pallor creen over Lois’ 
face as her silken lashes drooped low on her pearly 
cheeks. The muscles' and lineaments of her face re- 
mained passive, while there was not a trace of the 
Etnian fire that consumed her mind, nor of the for. 
bidden selfishness that burned within, threatening to 
burst the barriers of pride and self-respect, in order to 


IS marriage a failure? 


75 

gratify the reckless yearnings of this unholy and pas“ 
sionate love. With impatient doubts and hesitancy? 
she was standing on the dividing'line — a perilous ex- 
panse where few women ever go and retrace their 
steps — between a wife’s honor and a wife’s shame. A 
touch of Iris’ hand recalled her from this abyss of 
desperation just as Melnote stepped upon the stage 
and cried out : “Conscience ! Conscience ! It must 
not be.” The words fell upon her debating heart like 
a death sentence. it must not she thought 

as she made a personal application. “I must bear and 
suppress it all in ti e locked^ vaults of memory. Ah, 
my soul ! Woman’s virtue, too lofty, too divine for 
dcsecrati'?n. No, never! This shameful thraldom 
must cease.” 

“ O, horrors !” shrieked her soul in the voice of a 
dying conscience ; “why did I ever — ever confess that 
I loved him? If I had but crushed this consuming 
fire in the remote moment of its birth, when it was 
but a glimmering spark on the confines of mental 
vi&ion, I would never have stood on the verge of eter- 
nal ignominy, with no power but the still, small voice 
of a sorrowful and bleeding conscience to turn my 
feet aside.” 

All the love and heart-enrapturing scenes of the 
night played around her in ecstatic beauty. The star- 
embroidered sky of night seemed to shine down 
through the frescoed walls, lending its wild charms to 
soften the glaring gaslight, and doubling the longing 
of her spirit to flee from turmoil here and mix with 
their eternal rays. She could not remain ; were the 
ordeal faced longer, her poor heart must succumb to 
its emotions. 

As they took their departure, many were inter- 
ested to know why they left so early. A drama so in- 
teresting as Lady of Lyons, and its rendition by the 
present support, was certainly beyond criticism. Truly 
this was a perplexing question to those who watched 
the trio make their exit. 

What a grand thing it is that man is so consti- 
tuted that, when his feelings are drawn to their high- 

c6 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


esl tension, and when the gulf of human endurance is 
swept over by a cyclone of distress and disgraceful 
records, his history is’ all his own. No eager eyes can 
invade the sanctuary of his soul and read his secrets 
without his consent. So it was on this eventful night 
in the history of Lois Allen ; she bore her burden 
home, a sealed volume of despair, clasped with pride. 

Iris and Norman participated in an eager conver- 
sation, as they were swiftly carried back to Rosedale, 
but Lois was very taciturn. She had almost lost the 
power of speech when she gave her companions a 
willing farewell for the ifight. Quickly she locked 
herself in the privacy of her apartment ; for one flit- 
ting moment she felt the last charm of life had van- 
ished and the fervid hue of passion paled to death on 
the lovely cheeks. On imagination’s electric yacht 
^she sailed out into the aerial ocean. When the sable 
curtains of night rolled back, paling the shining con- 
stellations into azure blue, she anchored her vessel in 
mid ocean — a human life in circular motion, rolled in 
turbulent, tempestuous whirlpools around her — out on 
the confines of imagination’s remotest vision a rim 
of gold bound together tranquil sea and blue sky. 
This she interpreted to be a happy wdnter, but long 
before her eyes viewed these prophetic emblems of 
peace, there wrere signs foreboding an irrevocable fate. 

Maddened billows, foaming from every crest, 
pierced the black, storm infuriated clouds that thun- 
dered a sympathizing howl for every surging groan of 
the wild sea ; but through their billowy peaks, the 
gold-glittering band and placid sea was ever seen be- 
yond. 

Had not some beneficent transitory influence 
stilled the nerves, appeased the aching bosom, and 
peacefully reposed the frenzied mind, all would have 
ended here with Lois Allen; but God willed it other- 
wise. Under some unaccountable phenomena of mind 
and spirit, the past, present and future are associated 
into a typical sea, while the imagination, conditioned 
to the highest tension of moral excitement, coerced 
into the illogical realms of the mind by the exhaus- 


- IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 77 

tion of the body, is placed in the center of this meta- 
phorical sea of symbols in such a way that the im- 
pressions conveyed through its channels were so as- 
similated into the heart as to elude all future attempts 
of philosophy and common sense. 

Lois lay for perhaps an hour in this unconscious 
state, wrapped in the mesmeric power of this most 
wonderful vision. As she lay with her hands folded 
in deathlike position across her still, throbless bosom, 
with the index of life asleep in her exquisitely mold- 
ed wrists, to all earthly voices and intents she was 
dead. This was but a temporary respite from life’s 
harassing battles ; the god of death administered a 
mild antidote to life, while the god of Peter disso- 
ciated imagination and mentality from its sister facul- 
ties and placed it in the midst of a wonderful revela- 
tion. As soon as the detached organ of the brain re- 
turned to its fountain, the unseen God retreated, and 
life, like an electric current, moved over the tranquil 
dead. A rosy tint flushed her cheeks, her eyes opened 
in wild amazement as she arose to a graceful, sitting 
posture. 

A deep, low, impassioned cry passed over her 
lips as imagination flashed her eloquence across the 
disc of the brain, arousing the sleeping faculties of 
superstition in the soul until the whole physical, in- 
tellectual and moral exponent of her nature were 
wrapt in awe at the panorama of this marvelous 
vision. “Where have I been?” leaped from every ex- 
pression of her face. No word in the vocabulary of 
her intelligence could give a solution to that question. 
It was destined to be the one unfathomable problem 
of her life. 

Many times in after days the brittle cord was al- 
most clipped, but she would see the gold-errtbroidered 
horizon and stay her hand. Life came back to her 
like a rushing torrent, fraught with the whole train of 
its former sorrows. The body, nor the mind, had not 
lost or gained anything during that sabbatical period. 
The scenes at the theater were all fresh ; the imper- 
ishable love — burning like a mad, immortal fire — was 


78 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

still in her heart ; the soft, warm pressure of Mr. 
Wellington’s hand still thrilled her ; the velvet kiss 
that Iris dropped like dew on her lips as she 
bade her good-night, was still there. In her heart 
there was still that contrition for having gone to the 
entertainment. The full, flexible and impassioned 
voice of the stage, as it came to her laden with the 
fresh dew of love, effected a personal application, 
which set to love’s music the whole volume of her 
heart. Beausant’s rejection by Pauline suggested the 
cause and consequence of her marriage; this she ap- 
plied to herself, laboring to believe that all women 
were better than she was. 

A thousand times during the night the question 
presented itself, why did she ever marry.? She must 
certainly have loved Mr. Allen then ; she would think 
so and try to love him again. “Where was he to- 
night.?” -she questioned. “Will he ever come back to 
see his unhappy wife?” Walking across the room to 
where a life-size picture of her husband hung, she 
bowed — a kneeling figure of pity; giving away to 
sobs ot weeping, her heart burst out into a wild, fer- 
vent prayer : “O, God, have mercy, I implore Thee, 

upon a lone woman with a heart steeped in sin and 
her feet turned from heaven. Thou knowest, O, Great 
I AM, that when I pledged my hand and heart in mar- 
riage, I meant to be ever loyal and true. O, now, I 
pray Thee, lift my heart out from under the regency 
of sin, and give it to my husband. I want to love — 
I want to adore him. I have not yet committed any 
overt act of sin in word or deed. O, then, am I not 
chaste enough for my husband’s love? O, Thou 
God, who didst pass through the fiery furnace un- 
harmed, come, walk with me in this conscience fur- 
nace of fire, and send Thy counteracting influence to 
bind me back to the precious joys of a sinless life ! 
O, Richard ; thou whom I have called ‘darling hus- 
band,’ return unto me, and I will seek in faithful pray- 
er the ability from God to love you. 

“O, God, with heart as pure as human will can 
make it, in all the earnestness and sincerity of my 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


79 

volitionary nature, I plead with Thee, believing in 
Thee only as a wretched, dejected, self-condemned 
woman can. O, Father, there is a principle alive in 
my soul, I know not what to call it. It asserts itself 
to be the sweetest breath of heaven ; until a few years 
ago, until proper conditions arose, it was a latent, un- 
conscious power ; now,% Father of mercies, is this one 
of the divine seeds sown in the human soul by supreme 
wisdom ; that when quickened by the mysterious pro- 
cess of induction, there is no appointed death for it 
short of the grave ; if such is true, O, God, I feel that 
my only hope is in Thee. Thou boldest the key to 
every human heart ; wilt Thou not rob me of this new 
life? Come, veiled in Thy spirit, and remove that 
attribute of my being where love can only live. Save 
me, my Father, from self; uphold my feeble body along 
the weary pathway, and enable me to endure my 
cross.” 

As the last words died away on the midnight 
stillness, she arose from her prayerful attitude. When 
the handsome costume was carelessly taken from her 
body, she, insensible to everything else except her 
misery, fell asleep in a shroud of gloom and distress. 

Could we walk with Lois Allen through this 
night’s dreams and spasrqodic cries of ^'‘horrors !'''‘ 
'"'‘horrors P' '"'"deathP' ''‘deathP’' we might learn some- 
thing of remorse and misery in their relapsed forms. 
Lois was a good, noble woman at heart, as her suffer- 
ings proved. God does not afflict any but the purest 
examples of woman’s excellency with such sore chas- 
tisements. Only the heart of acute sensibility and 
well defined honor ever receives God’s voice of 
reproof with so much penitence. Lois Allen’s nature 
had been, until now, woven into threads of purest 
kindness that she deemed loveliness. She was the 
embodiment of all that was commanding and noble ; 
she possessed a few faults, but considering her inten- 
tions and will, her moral record was without the pale 
of comment. 

After all, she was in a measure like all her sex ; 
she had a soul that yearned for pure happiness; a heart 


So 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


warm and ever beating with the tenderest emotions; 
but it was no part of her inherent disposition to sacri- 
tice one of those honor ties of womanly modesty and 
chastity to reach that goal. Reader, unless you have 
been humiliated by that worst of tyrants, love, you 
can lend no sympathy to our heroine. Her heart is 
inflamed with a passion that yours has never felt. 
Her love, apart from all the impurities of an epicu- 
rean attachment stronger than law, stronger than voli- 
tion, exempt from selfishness, reigns, the monarch qf 
a heaven-born fate. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


ANCIL RANCH. 

S(*arcli not to find what lies too deeply hid; 

Nor to know things, whose knowledge is forbid, 

— Denliaui. 

It grieves me to the soul 
To see how man submits to man’s control; 

How o’erpowered and shackled minds are led 
In vulgar tracks, and to submission bred. 

— Crabbe. 

In one of the civilized counties of Texas, forty 
or fifty miles west of Waco, stands a wooden building 
a half century old. It is surrounded on the west and 
south by a dense forest ; on the north and east by a 
beautiful expanse of prairie ; a few yards from its 
door is a bubbling spring that, rising out of the ground, 
furnishes the head waters of Coryell Creek; a few 
miles west, over some hills and infant mountains, is 
the beautiful Leon river, rushing forward to the 
Brazos, forgetting this bubbling spring, its fountain 
source. A farm and a pasture of a few aqres, en- 
closed by a dilapidated fence, lie north of the house. 
East, a half mile out into the level prairie, are a group 
of excellent corrals, built in order to control the vast 
herds of stock which belong to the ranch. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 8l 

Let US go back to the old house, where our at- 
traction is for the present. Horses in full rig for 
travel are hitched to the numerous trees which belong 
to the outer grounds. In the yard men are clustered 
together in coarse, vulgar conversation ; some with 
Mexican hats in their hands, others with them fasten- 
ed lightly on their heads by means of a leather string 
passed around the back of their necks. 

Some were standing against posts and trees; some 
sitting on rocks or anything they could appropriate to 
the use of a chair ; others were lying flat on the 
ground enjoying the cool, eastern breeze. These men 
make their headquarters at the old house; when they 
speak of “home,” this is the place to which they refer. 

This would be no novel view at the border 
-ranches of Texas, to-day ; but the place where the 
events of this chapter occurred is now surrounded by 
the highest evidences of civilization. There are but 
few traces of its past scenes. 

Leaving the “boys” to give their pistols and 
bowies a chamois polish, we step over the four rail 
fence and enter the hard beaten path that leads us 
into the almost desolate house. Lying on a scaffold 
bed, in one corner of the room, was an old man whose 
hoary head and furrowed cheeks bear the impress of 
age and weakness. He appeared to be a man of me- 
dium height, though not strongly built ; his face was 
rather handsome and striking in appearance, but as he 
opened the phlegmatic gray eyes an expression of dis- 
tress, weariness and disappointment flashed over his 
face, a puzzled, dazed, wondering was all you could 
see in his mien that was notable. His hands, locked 
in each other, hung across his breast. 

There seemed to be a verse lost in memory, the 
finding of which was necessary to resuscitate the mind 
to its normal state of health and vigor. A long, flow- 
ing, frosty beard coursed its way upon his breast, and 
covered the lower features of his face, leaving noth- 
ing but the straight, ample nose, the rather prominent 
cheeks, and the high perpendicular forehead open to 
full observation. 


82 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


By his side sat a middle-aged man, compactly 
proportioned, his face, haggard and worn in expres- 
sion, was covered with a curly, thin beard. The nor- 
mal reflection of his countenance was veiled by a 
famishing conscience that yearned in a voice as strong 
as the inherent impulse to do right, for a drop of par- 
doning water to gush from the fountain of justice, 
and immerse it into that quietness where peace of life 
would repose in the security of the laws of approval. 
A hungry index of the heart caricatured his physiog- 
nomy into a concise history of the Titanic power of 
hopeless repentance over a life fraught with crime, 
that nothing but the blast of memory can obliterate. 

His head was bowed over the half insensible man 
as if in prayerful communion with heaven. Suddenly 
he threw himself back into his chair, as if his heart 
was about to be consumed by the cancer-eating agony 
of suspense, exclaiming interrogatively : 

“ How long since Ike went away? I am per- 
plexed to know the occasion of his continued absence.” 

Ed Loraine (the prostrate man at his side) un- 
locked his hands, threw them up as if he would clasp 
a support to his feeble body, then, despairingly turn- 
ing his fare toward the speaker, asked : 

“What did you say, Fred?” 

“Oh, nothing. Uncle Ed. Only Ike’s movements 
are a profound mystery to me.” 

“Have you heard nothing from him yet?” ques- 
tioned the listless sufferer. 

“No; nothing in a year. You know he said, 
when he went away, that he would be gone for some 
time ; business would probably call him to Europe be- 
fore his return.” 

Fred Russell paused a moment ; he was on the 
verge of uttering an unkind word against his confed- 
erate, in the presence of the much wronged and de- 
luded man. A horror seized him, and he decided to 
never reveal a page of the sealed book of crime that 
had long been a sore burden upon his conscience. 

Before these thoughts of the past were banished 
from his mind, Edmond Loraine again questioned : 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 83 

“Have the ‘boys’ all gone out? I want to talk 
with you on subjects of great privacy and concern.” 

Fred arose and stepped to the door; the “boys” 
were all on their horses, ready for their evening round 
up. They had divided into companies of four, and 
now rode away without observing the keen, restless 
eyes of their employer watching them from the door, 
these wild cow-boys loved — as much as in their nature 
was possible — this man for his unassuming grace, and 
the impartiality with which he managed them. 

Those who were assigned to the east engaged in 
the following conversation. One said : 

“ Bill Shroud has been jailed for hooking too many 
of Widow Green’s yearlings.” 

Another added : “ I guess it will learn him a les- 

son. The laws have changed in Texas since I’ve been 
on the range. I gad ! when I came to these parts five 
years ago, if a feller had a brand he could get all the 
mavricks in Hamilton county, if he was sharp enough. 
Never heard of the law squealing on him. All he 
had to fear was some man’s six-shooter, whose calf he 
had yanked.” 

The third put in, as he gave his rather unruly 
horse a stroke with his riding whip: 

“ The boys will get him out ; the lawyers in 
Hamilton say all law is unconstitutional that binds a 
man down to his own ranch. See how they conjured 
the jury, so it said Tom Jones and Nick Brown had 
the best right to all unbranded colts over one year old 
found running with their bunch of horses.” 

The fourth, a native Texan, fires in with his crude 
ideas of justice : 

“ The opinion I got down into my head is that 
Bill Shroud is a pop-gun kind of a fellow; thinks 
himself the biggest man in these diggings. Maybe a 
rest in the jail will cool him down ; but I don’t see 
how the law is going to say how many cattle he ought 
to have to his part. If they have cuffed him because 
his brand was found on somebody else’s calf, how are 
they going to prove the design ; that’s the word, boys; 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


84 

the law looks at the intention of the matter and not 
the act without its common sense view.” 

Boasting in his knowledge of law and justice, he 
vet gloried in the downfall of humanity ; swore that 
he had as soon swim in blood and drink human gore 
for coffee, as to sleep on feathers, and drink old Lin- 
coln County “how come you so;” rejoiced that he was 
a son of the Wild West, and knew no fear. 

Thus talking, they passed from view. 

^ ^ ^ * * 

Fred stood watching the disappearing men for 
several minutes, before he returned to the bedside to 
say : 

“ Their ears are beyond the reach of our voices. 
What is it you want to speak about. Uncle Ed?” 

The old gentleman opened his steel grey eyes and 
fixed them calmly upon Russell, as he said : 

“We have been here about twenty years now. 
Yourself and all this stock, numbering thousands 
upon thousands, belong to Ike Ancil. He has not 
been here a month during the whole time. There is 
something inexplicably strange in his conduct.” 

“ What you verbally state is true, uncle ; but let 
us not give it an inferential interpretation. You know 
there are no charms* in this uncivilized land for Ike. 
Here society’s refining influence does not reach ; these 
enchanting scenes, in the midst of nature’s solitude, 
sing rest only to the recluse. I know but little by ex- 
perience of the fascinating influences of eastern so- 
ciety ; my poverty and general status forbid my ad- 
mission into high life ; however, I have drunk the 
dregs which have settled from its exhilarating effects. 
I know some of the ruins and moral wrecks that are 
now the sad but living monuments of its alluring 
music and its fatal consequence. There are but few 
men of Ike Ancil’s wealth; for you know he holds 
Croesus in his left hand, and Fortuna in his right. 
Power — and money is power — wrecks the finer sensi- 
bilities that are interwoven into humanity and deliv- 
ers the captivated soul over to its captor. Ike is not a 
man of the highest inborn loveliness of character.” 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 85 

A powerful tremor swept swiftly over him as he 
continued ; “Ike is susceptible to a great many sug- 
gestions which come from impure motives. He is in- 
clined to instability and there is some incertitude at- 
tending all his promises.” 

Ed Loraine listened with pricked ears to every 
word which passed over Fred Russell’s lips. Though 
Fred had been very attentive to him in his illness and 
patient in all his he‘lplessness, though he showed the 
respect to call him “uncle,” no kindred tie bound their 
souls together. 

The strong intuitive powers of man told him 
Fred Russell was living a double, wicked and dis- 
guised life ; yet these impressions failed to tell how 
he had become a wicked man, or to what extent he 
now repented; he was forced to believe, against the 
persistent opposition of his will, that Fred knew more 
of Ike Ancil’s past history than any living man, and 
that he knew more than he had or ever would divulge. 

“Fred,” replied Mr. Loraine, “why do men come 
to this country to live? My mind frequently goes 
back to that old home among the rocks and mountains 
of Virginia. There I was surrounded by a handsome 
library and my daily paper was brought to me each 
day. T was an interested observer of the political sky. 
I loved religion and the prattle of young and tender 
childhood. Fred, in those days, you were a different 
man; instead of the gaunt, distressed look that now 
hangs upon your face, like a shadow, you were a ge- 
nial, festive youth, prepossessing in appearance, a de- 
votee to pure and instructive literature. It is all, all 
an unfathomable mystery to me. Since I awoke from 
my dream, I have never asked for an explanation for 
the change that has come ^ver us and all nature — a 
spell profound.” 

The old man’s voice, at first full with excitement, 
grew into a mad, despairing cry, that touched every 
cord of Fred Russell’s heart. Never had he felt the 
keen sting of remorse so painfully as now. 

He had fought many battles with his own con. 


86 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


science, and the question resolved itself down to 
Hamlet’s soliliquy ; 

“To be, or not to be ?” 

But the cowardly sleep came over him, and he 
arrested the drawn dagger, as Cato’s words burst in 
thundering eloquence from the voice within : 

“The soul secure in her existence smiles 
At the drawn dagger and defies its point.” 

But now another was puzzled and harassed over 
the plain and undeniable irregularities in his life, and 
for which he must shoulder the responsibilty. 

“O, remorse !” shouted the monitor within, “Cere- 
bus, roll back the sombre curtains of hell ! Charon, 
leave thy oars to freedom’s hand that some infernal 
convict mav escape to earth on a mission of sym- 
pathy !” 

Humanity never experienced greater self-con- 
demnation than she witnessed in this poor, sin-cursed, 
yet penitent man. Too good to commit a murder now, 
and too long in the employment of vice to renounce 
its sceptre — to confess its damning and fiendish influ- 
ence — and, if within the pale of possibility, turn im- 
prisoned justice loose to devour her prey, even though 
life should be the forfeit. It requires irreversible de- 
cision, self-sacrificing and unrelenting firmness to re- 
cast the soul after it has been steeped in the foulest 
and blackest crime, involving the consummate over- 
throw of character, reputation, and the ultimate ostra- 
cism of the individual. 

But the hardened sinner who had borne these 
battles, in a degree, for over a score of years, was not 
destined to surrender just yet. * 

Taking Ed Loraine’s hand in his he said : 

“ Uncle, you may have been iniquitously treated, 
and I could tell you something which would astonish 
and enrage you ; but, I think it would be very impru- 
dent in me to detail to you a history of what occurred 
during your long illness. In the future, at an oppor- 
tune time, I will tell why I am here with you. I love 
you most of all men, may be termed the prime reason 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


s; 

of my presence here. The condition and origin of 
this love I cannot now tell you. I have plenty of 
money at my control to establish myself in easy, en- 
viable circumstances ; but I shall never leave you 
while you live. By my deference to your age, atten- 
tion to your wants, and tenderness in caring for you, 
I hope to ever share the greatest proportion of your 
love.” 

The emaciated and decrepit form was fast suc- 
cumbing to the declension of age ; he did not fully 
grasp all Fred said to him ; yet he understood enough 
to know that it would not be best for him to learn all 
his own history now. Though he felt a stupor com- 
ing over him, he replied to the imperfect idea he drew 
from Fred’s avowed friendship : 

“ Fred, you have been as kind to me as a son; if 
it had not been for you, my spirit before now would 
have been wandering in some other world. While 
this kindness, in a measure, abates my physical suffer- 
ing, it renders my mental none the less intolerable. 
My mind seems to be clearer in the last few days 
than it has been since I lost my health.” 

Here he paused as if trying to supply the lost 
link of memory, then dreamily continued : 

“ During some of my recent meditations, the 
question is often asked, ‘where is my little niece?’ 
You remember her, Fred. She had long, black hair, 
sweet gazelle eyes and silken lashes ; she loved me so 
much. She was standing at my bedside, when I 
closed my eyes in that fevered sleep from which I 
have never recovered. Fred, you were awake all the 
time. Did you help to bury her, and where was her 
last resting place? You have plenty of money at 
your control, promise that you will take me home and 
lay me by her side, when death comes.” 

Fred wiped blinding tears from his eyes, as he 
attempted to satisfy Mr. Loraine with an ambiguous 
answer. Giving his hand a gentle pressure, he said : 

“ Uncle Ed, you have suffered yourself to become 
too much excited this evening. You hazard your life 
every time you yield to the charms which these buried 


88 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


hopes sway over you. I remember the little girl all 
too well ; she loved you with all the fervor of her 
childish admiration. Yes;” he seemed to almost give 
way to his feelinp-s, but recovering instantly, he con- 
tinued, “ I assisted at her funeral exercises. Go to 
sleep now ; when you are refreshed, I will come 
again.” 

“ No, no ! dp not leave me now,” insisted the old 
man. “Your conversation has proven cheering and 
exhilerating to me — the finest antidote for comatose I 
have had served me. How are the herds getting 
along? Does the natural increase of the stock balance 
the sale of beef cattle?” 

Fred, being glad to shift the conversation into a 
different channel, answered with promptness and 
interest ; 

“ I am very much pleased for having made my- 
self instrumental in dispelling some of your gloomy 
thoughts. Our cattle are in an excellent condition 
this winter. The frost has been light, and the range 
is yet very fine. The natural increase has been greater 
than the sales, and I would not be surprised to find 
the excess several thousand.” 

“ That will be very interesting news to Ike,” 
whispered Mr. Loraine. “But is he as avaricious now 
as he was in his youth?” 

“ Uncle, I think you have lost much of your old 
wit,” smiled Fred. “Why, don’t you remember 
Thomas Decker says : 

“When all sins are old in us 
And go upon crutches, covetousness 
Does but tlien lie in her cradle.” 

“Ah! Fred, you turn leaves in the book of mem- 
ory I thought had been torn out. I vividly see it all 
now. It was a poet’s dream. Dr. Johnson said : 

“The lust of gold was 
The last corruption of degenerate man;” 

and was it not Blair who wrote the verse- - 

“0, cursed love of gold; when for thy sake 

The fool throws up his interest in both worlds; 

First starved in this, then damned in that to come.” 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


89 

Continuing, Mr. Loraine said : “ By verse we 

prove that avarice is the last sin a man gives up, but 
I think poets dream and do not philosophize.” 

Fred, looking at the old man, astonished at the 
almost miraculous change that had come upon him, 
thoughtfully replied : 

“ I lay down the postulate, that all poetry is not 
truth ; but it does not follow that there is no truth in 
poetry. Ike may have lost some of his old love for 
gold, but it is hardly probable that he has lost enough’ 
of it to say he is not susceptible to its seductive in- 
fluence.” 

“Ah, Fred,” returned the old man. “if your heart 
was as good as your logic, you need never have been 
here, a fugitive from justice.” Noticing a sudden 
contraction of feature, he explained : “Fred, don’t 
take exceptions. I had not heard a jest in so long, 
and as these words just forced themselves on me I 
uttered them. Yes, with all wise men I say: ‘Vice 
is the last of man’s associates he takes leave of when 
he goes away from earth.’ ” 

Here his mind drifted back to the original topic, 
and he questioned : 

“Fred, what do you say to me catechising Ike 
about my presence here, when he comes? Do you 
think it will be advisable?” 

“Uncle, I am rejoiced to see you so much im- 
proved in strength and mental vigor ; but I am afraid 
you are going to give so much thought to a past that 
is irremediable as to incur a relapse. If I knew your 
health permitted, I would like for you to confer with 
Ike upon the subject of the past; but I do not now 
think it would be expedient for you. I am afraid the 
information obtained would not be definite enough 
for your satisfaction. He is the one man who can 
favor you with a detailed account of all the past, but 
I am confident he will never make you wiser than 
now. An interview with him will only mystify and 
becloud your mind into a labyrinth of phantasms. I 
hope you will ponder well what I say without an 
effort to divine the secondary cause of my actions.” 


90 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


“ Fred,” in all deference to your views,” frankly 
responded Mr. Loraine, “I cannot keep my silence al- 
ways. My suspense, my anxiety, my suspicions of 
foul play, urge upon me with an impetuosity which 
my frail nature cannot resist. I know as well as 
though your words had fold me, that my questions 
have greatly nonplussed and distressed you to-day ; 
but I look upon you as being my only benefactor in 
,my helplessness, and will not pain you any more with 
personal questions. You may be a vile reprobate, in- 
corrigible to good influences ; if so, death will soon 
deliver your spirit over to the Furies, who will see 
that ‘your measure is meted out to you again.’ If Ike 
Ancil returns before the restoration of my spirit to its 
eternal rest, I am going to make some direct inquiries 
about the past. ' There is a short history which he 
knows that justice demands he shall not withhold 
from me. 

“Can I, restrained by cowardice, let him gently 
go without even an accusation? No; Ed Loraine is 
himself again ; he wants to liberate the just. 

“The Gods 

Grow angry with your patience; 

’Tis their care, 

And must be yours, that guilty men escape not.” 

“ Do not think, Fred, that I am mad this even- 
ing. I have had my thoughts collected for several 
weeks, but thinking it useless, I have not expressed 
them. If you have work to do, I can manage the re- 
mainder of the day alone.” 

Fred Russell’s face had lost none of its deathly 
wanness during the conversation, and his heart bled 
with new wounds. Hitherto he had felt that Ike 
Ancil was the only living person who knew the moral 
turpitude of his heart ; but now the only man in 
whose welfare and comfort he was concerned, had in- 
advertently thrown into his teeth that he was a dis- 
guised hypocrite. 

Unable to reply to Mr. Loraine, he sauntered 
away, at his half command, out into the vast level 
prairie, dotted with sheep, cattle and horses. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


9 * 

Reader, do you want to gaze for a moment upon 
a mausoleum of regret, a wrecked and self-loathed 
existence? If you do, behold Fred Russell ! All that 
eloquent pens have written, and all that men have 
said on pinions of sublimest oratory, sink into a baga- 
telle when called upon to portray this man’s suffer- 
ings. His life stranded bark floated out upon a tem- 
pestuous sea, crushed into a hopeless pile of human 
debris. 

With no father, brother, or sister to counteract 
his self -incriminated, hapjess, and ill-fated destiny — 
no mother, with face aglow with love and tenderness, 
to come and twine her arms around his neck and offer 
her prayerful sympathy — no mother to stand by him 
in his disgrace, ^o uphold him while the world turned 
and spit its vilest opprobrium upon him — no wife to 
kneel at his side, a monument of devotion, when con- 
science had thrown asunder the fetters of pride and 
become his most vociferous accuser — he was the most 
forlorn, pitiable wreck in the ghastly, bottomless 
courts of misery. 

Sunk in his own bitter thoughts, this lone wan- 
derer did not turn to retrace his steps until the sun 
was hiding himself behind the hills and forests that 
belted the western limits in picturesque beauty. Earth 
had donned her most enchanting December costume ; 
but her melodious voice sung not the cheerful notes 
that could rock the disconsolate heart in restful 
slumber. 

The clashing thunder and howl of the midnight 
storm cannot drown the voice of an indignant con- 
science ; nor can the funeral anthems of sunset, sung 
by nature’s soft, flexible voice, allure it into illusive 
dreams of approaching rest. 

It was dark when Fred Russell reached the house.. 
He had walked for several miles, but did not feel any 
fatigue ; he was totally unconscious of the cool breeze 
that had chilled his body almost to numbness. As he 
approached the house his attention was called by a 
cheerful fire that cast a brilliant light over the room 
and out into the fast increasing darkness. 


92 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


He stepped over the low fence and had reached 
the steps that entered the room, when he beheld in 
speechless astonishment a familiar figure, dressed in 
elegant attire. 

It was Ike Ancil. 


CHAPTER IX. 

AT ROSEDALE, 

Alas, what stay is there in human nature, 

Or who can shun inevitable fate? 

The doom was written, the decree was past, 

Ere the foundations of the world were cast. 

— Dryden. 

Away to heaven^ respective lenity, 

And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now. 

— Shakespeare. 

The dreary, cold winter with its sombre hues and 
lugubrious skies, had been superseded by spring. The 
queen month has appeared above the horizon, strew- 
ing her flowers on the lap of earth. 

During the months that have passed since Mr. 
Allen’s departure to the South, many a hard fought 
battle has been conducted in the silent chambers of 
the heart by at least two of Rosedale’s inmates ; and 
yet that little emperor, known as self, is still uncon- 
quered. Human nature at Rosedale remains the same. 

Norman has been the recipient of one letter from 
Mr. Allen, stating he would probably be at home in 
March. The postmark was indistinct and his address 
was left out. March had .come and gone, but Mr. 
Allen was not at home. He had written once or 
twice to Lois, but for some unknown reason he al- 
way suppressed his address and refrained from mak- 
ing any reference to the time when he would get 
home. 

These eccentricities and strange phenomena that 
recorded themselves in the history of Richard Allen 
were the subject of much private meditation ; how- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 93 

ever, Lois had resolved to bear thi^iform of her burden 
alone. Her husband’s neglect was by no means the 
source of her keenest misery, though she did not like 
to confess it. At times spontaneous impulse would 
suggest that she might be happier if he never came 
back. This thought occasioned conflicts between will 
and love. 

She clamored for mastery over self in many ways; 
sometimes on the suppliant knee of prayer, and again 
in the secret council hall of duty. Much of her time 
during the seven or eight months preceding were 
dreamed away in study and conversation with Nor- 
man Wellington ; each day her adoring heart im- 
bibed fresh fragrance from his presence. She learned 
to trust him, not by test or any merit his past conduct 
warranted, but by the talismanic power which thread- 
ed her soul into a harp of harmonious music. 

During these days of sweet association her heart 
went out to him in full confidence ; if she wanted 
anything to satisfy a momentary whim, she did not 
hesitate to ask him to have it brought to her. While 
she never mentioned her husband’s name or referred 
to his protracted absence, she had no other trial but 
she confided it to him. Her heart had become oblivi- 
ous to the first sting of conscience ; as her reason be- 
came revolutionized, she saw no impropriety in her 
association with Norman, and enjoying his congenial 
companionship so long as their intimacy was confined 
to the limits of friendship. 

She had philosophized over it until she believed 
love was but the higltest order of friendship with the 
dross and impurities that mingle with ordinary attach- 
ments cancelled. Thus she reasoned, and thus she 
justified every step taken, evading, in a degree, the 
warning which faintly echoed upon her heart to be 
answered by love’s ingenious arguments, expunging 
even the mildest type of sin from the conscience, and 
leaving the mind in the most delightful state of com- 
placency. She never stopped to inquire how far this 
attachment had progressed, or if she could relinquish 
it at her will. 


94 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


The future — tHe unknown future, which she must 
pass through before death, was not a momentous 
theme at this period of her life. The religious — the 
predominating element in her nature — was neglected 
as her present happiness became so overwhelming in 
its fascinating sway. Her mind in its pleasing qui- 
etude never once thought to tell Norman of the sun- 
shine he had brought into her life. No, horrors ! she 
could not tell him ; it was not that kind of love, any- 
way. It was love such as the flowers would speak to 
him — the soft, evening breeze, laden with the fra- 
grance of roses and heliotropes, would whisper it to 
him at sunset by the fountain ; there would be no sin 
in that — the news would be so sweet. 

To a disinterested witness Lois will be severely 
condemned for her conduct, and by law and testimony 
ostracized from chaste and cultured society. Unjust 
judge ! know ye not that man cannot be judged by his 
belief? Sincerity, absolute sincerity, is the highest 
test of honesty 'and virtue; circumstances, regardless 
of what may be said of it as a falsity, is the-- generat- 
ing and determining power of belief. 

Belief assimilated into the soul as the religious 
and moral germ of conscience decides the right or 
wrong of every important step to be taken in life. 
This belief is not always dependent upon what we 
hear or see, but upon what we feel as the result of ex- 
ternal influence over the intellectual and sentimental 
sensibilities of our inherent natures. Therefore, be- 
fore ^a man can speak inflexible, irreversible edicts 
against a poor, frail woman, he should be put in her 
place, surrounded by all the soul-fascinating circum- 
stances that had perverted her belief into a channel of 
thinking which makes a deed or act admissible when 
it is the realization of idealistic hope. 

We have all seen persons whom we have deified ; 
so long as our minds remained in this happy condi- 
tion in reference to them, their faults were trans- 
formed into virtues and received our unstinted praise. 
A man who has no faults in the eyes of the people 
can rule them, form their opinions, and speak their 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


95 

sentiments by the word of his mouth ; he can lead 
them into rebellion and treason, and utterly wreck 
their cherished hopes and character. This is the 
power of man’s influence over a nation. 

Who from the shrines of justice and honesty will 
walk out upon the pulpit of reason and condemn the 
deluded, though sincere, hearts who have participated 
in their own suicide? Their acts alone, and not the 
actors, remain for criticism and just condemnation. 
Human acts do not alvyays exhibit the state of the 
heart. A man may be associated in a very dark crime, 
while the intention of his heart is right. In such a 
case, where does the verdict rest? Where is the cul- 
pable party? Oh, ecclesiastical philosopher, answer: 
“Most emphatically upon the undesigning heart from 
which came the acts which resulted in the sin.” Wise 
theology, where do you say? “Upon the party who 
committed the act regardless of motive or design.” 

Sympathizing Christianity, where do you say? 
“The intention of man always decides. Axes his state 
in our society. The fundamental principle of our 
union is,, that the heart is the fountain of good and 
evil. All good must proceed from the heart, likewise 
all evil. Every evil thought comes from the heart ; 
thought or design, then, either criminates or excul- 
pates the soul. 

“Humanity is the field in which we work ; hence 
our system was prepared to meet its wants. We have 
peace to offer those who are pure in heart, but gall 
for those whose hearts are poisoned with insincerity 
and malicious designs. Lois Allen is a member of our 
order — an unfortunate woman placed under circum- 
stances that have bought her conscience and perverted 
her reason, but who can question her sincerity, or 
have the iron heart to say she does not believe she is 
listening to the still, small voice within. Her conduct 
is the source of much pain and meets with our severest 
criticism ; but we cannot condemn the woman who 
believes she is right, and cannot, when aided by that 
divine pilot, conscience, behold anything inconsistent 
in what she is doing. 


96 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 


“One of our beatitudes is: ‘Blessed are the pure 
in heart, for they shall see God.’ So far as we know 
of Lois, her mind and heart still repose in the safety 
of conscious purity, and we believe the everlasting 
love of creator for creature, will, after she has served 
an apprenticeship of suffering in the bondage of sin, 
lead her back over the dead sea of wasted opportuni- 
ties into the holy ground of Christian example, where 
she will remain to await in serene safety the sunset of 
life.” 

% ^ * 

One mismated marriage lived is better than a 
thousand divorces, but how many wretched men and 
women turn from the funeral ashes of their own vows 
and seek relief in the courts ; many of them good 
women, even tempered and forbearing, are tied to 
brutes for husbands, and many men, industrious and 
agreeable in disposition, are linked by the indissolu- 
ble bonds of wedlock to fiendish and hellish women. 
We have in the history of Lois an illustration that 
congeniality and compatibility of temperament are 
the only sacred links in the mystical chain that bind 
“two hearts into one.” Nor do we believe that coer- 
cion, by the prohibition of divorce, will preserve the 
sanctity of marriage, for infidelity will follow as a 
natural sequence when the impassioned and disquieted 
nature seeks respite from its painful bondage. 

Not only have Norman Wellington and Lois 
Allen seen this winter go by on time’s fleetest wings, 
but Iris has attracted the attention of Raymond Hum- 
phrey, a rising young lawyer. Of course, being a 
woman, this sudden stimulus to her vanity gave to 
the dreary winter the flush and soft colors of a May 
sunset ; flowers bloomed beneath icicles and butter- 
flies sported in gleeful merriment out hi the falling 
sleet, so great was the transformation wrought in this 
prosaical woman. 

Raymond Humphrey was thirty years of age ; 
in bearing, gracefully tall and handsomely propor- 
tioned ; courtly and prepossessing in manners; with 


ts MARftlAGE A J'AILUrE? 97 

eyes breathing poetic fire and passion, his suggestive 
names were Paris or Apollo. lie was a hopeless de- 
votee to society, until he knew Iris Earle. 

There were no Capulets or MoiPagucs^ to disturb 
this modern Romeo or imprison the lovely Juliet. 
Raymond tacitly withdrew himself from the 
throng that assembled in the brilliant parlors and halls 
for festive entertainment, as his acquaintance ripened 
w ith Iris. Many public and private comments were 
made on his strange, sudden retirement from the social 
ring where he was the favorite of every debutante. 

The wealth of Nashville, attainable through mar- 
riage, was accessible to him; but he was not the man 
to sell his hand and prostitute his heart. Raymond 
Humphrey had a higher conception of life than to 
barter away principle to obtain physical and temporal 
security ; however, he is nothing but a man fraught 
with all the infirmities and susceptibilities of his race. 

We might portray him as faultless, the absolute 
embodiment of all that is commendable, to the exclu- 
sion of all that is weak ; but why look out upon imag- 
ination’s illimitable domain, away from the free moral 
agency in creation, and weave an imaginary character 
with attributes and characteristics free from all the 
incumbrances of the human in man ; and who is 
without a living counterpart.? 

Reader, we introduce Raymond Humphrey to you 
as a human being ; if you see him doing things dis- 
cordant with your idea of right, do not be any more 
surprised than you would be to hear of one of your 
friends shooting his neighbor’s horse and perverting 
the truth to evade the law ; do not be any more sur- 
prised than you would be to hear of Bill Jones and 
Tom Brown, who are both elders irt the church, spit- 
ting venomous fire and slanderous epithets at each 
other and at their neighbors ; in fact, do not be any 
more surprised than you would be to hear that your 
honest friend, whose heart you deemed the throne of 
sublimest Christian integrity, hadtold a lie for a dollar. 

Mr. Humphrey is in love ( this shows he is human ) 
with Iris Earle — this annuls the human, for even the 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


98 

Gods would love her. Norman and Lois know it — 
every one knows it but Iris. She has never thought 
of it ; she knows there has been a strange spell upon 
her fur the past few inonlhs, which moves her spirits 
to ^he highest tension of hope, and then lets them 
down into despondency ; she has never divined the 
meaning or cared to know the cause of it. The woman 
who could read her sister’s soul before she read it her- 
self, now can’t read her own. Never thinks of love 
in connection with herself. 

Two women in love at Rosedale, either of which 
would forfeit their lives before acknowledging it was 
so. Lois at one time came to the conolusion that she 
loved Norman, but such a conclusion was fraught 
with so much pain and conscience-burning, she re- 
versed her decision, and ever since has been content 
to call it an infatuating friendship. Ingenious love, 
or woman ! Surely the serpent is absent — which is it? 

Raymond and Norman were not ignorant of the 
veritable feeling in their hearts or its cause. Ray- 
mond knew he loved Iris ; he said so ever since the 
lirst time he saw her; he also knew he was going to 
try to make her aware of it. 

Norman had solved the problem long ago ; but he 
had passed a resolution, as strong as self, that he would 
never unburden his heart to Lois ; she would never 
know what he had endured through her. He thought 
it might be a crime against God and man to love the 
wife of another; but there was no remedy for such a 
love ; it was a sickness no physician could cure ; a 
heart-hunger whicli nothing but a caress from Lois 
could ever appease. 

Iris ceased her vigil upon Lois and Norman ; 
they did not now seem more devoted than friendship 
warranted ; not more devoted than Mr. Humphrey 
ajid she, and slie knew they were not in love ! Their 
relation was only a congenial feast in the confidential 
chambers of friendship. Sometimes she would see 
them alone in the garden gathering flowers, or at the 
fountain watching the amber sunset; strange, but she 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


99 

never thought of love or any of its influences ; all 
that old prudence had gone. 

When she would enter the library and see their 
heads inclined over the same book, their locks some- 
times touching in love kisses, she never thought of the 
sorrow that might come ; it reminded her only of 
Raymond, who had become a frequent visitor at Rose- 
dale, never consenting for a week to pass between 
calls. 

It was a lovely May evening that he drove out of 
the corporate limits of Nashville in the direction of 
the enchanted grounds ; made sacred to him by the 
presence of Iris. 

“Bon soir, Q^ueen Dido,” he smiled, as he ap- 
proached the trellised summer house in which re- 
clined a graceful figure deeply absorbed in a book. 

“And pray who is my ^neas,” laughed she in 
surprise, from a floral palace, as the book dropped 
upon her lap. 

“ I aspire to be him by appointment,” returned 
Raymond, a little confused. 

“Oh, then, I had as well despatch for Mars, or ‘ 
else imagine myself Minerva and have you beheaded 
for presumption. The immortal soliloquy of the 
Prince of Denmark is yet an unknown scroll to me. 
The present finds me impervious to the Ophelic epi- 
demic of love. So I consider myself quite secure 
with King yT^neas,” she responded, as she saw a deep- 
er flush of confusion come over Raymond’s face. 

“Do not give metaphors a literal interpretation, 
regardless of the author’s design,” he stammered. 

“ Does it please his royal highness to ventilate 
himself upon hi.-? hieroglyphical declaration?” she 
questioned, as she motioned him to a seat at her side. 

“You have converted a serious implication into 
the most humiliating type of Momus,” repeated P-ay- 
mond, as he obeyed her request to be seated. 

“Why so, king?” she tauntingly said. 

‘T — I — only meant to convey the idea that firm- 
ness and truth were so impressibly written upon the 


lOO 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


lineaments of your face that, if you ever loved, rather 
than be disloyal, or live without it, you would die. 
And it was a grave perversion of my meaning to 
place me in the attitude of a truant knight.” 

The pale hue of sad memory instantly stole over 
her face at the mention of “love,” but as quickly van- 
ished. A'mirthful, mischievous light came into her 
eyes at the mention of a “truant knight.” She saw 
how deeply embarrassed he was, and determined not 
to let the opportunity escape for a rare and laughable 
joke. She said : 

“Well, Mr. Humphrey, I must confess the ob- 
scurity and presumptuous significance of your lan- 
guage has caused me some little disappointment. My 
nature being all candid instead of evasive, I usually 
interpret words by their primary sense ; but for the 
flattering comment with which you honor me, I will 
suspend the best known rules of interpretation and 
abide by your explanation.” 

“Permit me to reconstruct my language, and call 
myself your valiant knight. Would you like Ivanhoe 
for your prince?” 

“And what call me — Rowena?” she asked hesi- 
tatingly. 

“Would you wear the crown?” he anxiously 
(piestioned, feeling that her answer would, in a meas- 
ure, bring life or death. 

“I never could bear Rowena; she was the patron 
goddess of weakness. You would not take me for 
the fair-haired Rowena? See, my tresses are as dark 
as Nox. I always admired the dark-eyed Rebecca. 
Do you want to call me Rebecca, Mr. Humphrey?” 
she smiled, with a mischievous light in her eyes. 

“I will call you both, he emphasized. 

“No! no! I could not live a double life !” she 
exclaimed. 

“There could not be one without the other. And 
‘who will be my Rowena?” he said and waited in 
breathless suspense. 

A sweet, musical laugh rippled over her lips, as 
she answered : 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


lOI 


“Mr. Humphrey, I am astonished that a man of 
your social distinction should make such a ludicrous 
request of me. Rebecca did not select Rowena for 
Ivanhoe, nor did he ask it of her. This is a question 
fraught with so much interest and responsibility to 
yourself that I did not think you would trust it into 
other hands. It is impossible to transform my- 
self into both; and you know it is a scientific law 
that two things can’t occupy the same space at the 
same time. If I must do you a kindness by serving 
in the capacity of one or the other, as an American, I 
claim the right to choose for myself. I do hope you 
will not think me selfish because I seem a litHe in- 
tractable.” 

“Miss Iris, this is a very serious matter with me, 
and I want you to give me your honest opinion upon 
the subject. Don’t, please don’t turn everything I 
say into irony and levity ; for if there is a subject in 
the vast domain of thought which engages the pro- 
foundest interest and love of my heart it is this'. Have 
you been so blind to all the emotions and tenderness 
of my heart, that you have not divined its feelings and 
purposes? O, heart of woman! the throne of love!, 
have you never felt the thrill that enraptures existence 
in the sweetest delights? If until now the eyes of 
your soul have been closed, I am a ruined, a hopeless 
man ; for there are no other lips, no other eyes that 
can speak quietude into my throbbing heart. You are 
the hub around which the little world of my being 
revolves; these fragrant flowers, these aromatic woods, 
breathing spicy odors, wear their crown of beauty by 
your consent. 

“It is now in your power to enrich the life I am 
destined to live with noble aims and acts of consoling 
charity, or to strike the chord that will wreck my hap- 
piness on the breakers of despair; and then a voice 
will echo in your ears, ‘O, Iris ! Iris !’ 

“ ‘There stands a spectre in your hall; 

The guilt of blood is at your door; 

You changed a wholesome heart to gall; 

You held your course without remorse.’ ” 


102 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

HIs listener grew very impatient under his elo- 
quence and imploring earnestness ; for his burning 
words fell not on the soul of her he worshipped, but 
under the excitement to which thoughts of this inter- 
view had wrought his mind, he, for once, was blinded 
by the likeness of the sisters, and had poured forth his 
soul to Lois. 

Prompted by ' a spirit of humor, Lois at first had 
led him on. When she realized the intensity of his 
words her courage failed to reveal her position to him. 
Now she resolved to stop the impetuous strain of 
love-burning words ; she did not think it too late and 
deemed an explanation unnecessary. With a deep 
sigh of regret, she lifted the book from her lap and 
said ; 

“Let us postpone this subject. When you came 
I was reading Ligeia.” 

Raymond was very fond of reading. Lois could 
not have selected a subject so fascinating to him. He 
had read everything from the pen of Edgar Allan 
Poe ; he was proud of him as an American author ; 
he loved to discourse upon the brilliant genius that 
characterized his diction. So when she called his at- 
tention to the book she had been reading, it did for a 
while divert his attention. 

Lowering his voice into the pathos of subdued 
love, he said : 

“Do you like Ligeia?” 

• “I do not know. It has a charm for me ; but when 
I read it a bubble of sadness rises in my heart, leaving 
me just a little dissatisfied,” she said softly. 

As she looked up into the handsome face at her 
side, the sadness deepened in her heart. Those eyes 
of love and poetry were placed upon her in such pa- 
thetic entreaty ; his eyes were moist with tears, and 
she knew his heart was engulfed in a stormy ocean. 
She wished it was possible for Iris to come and take 
her place and drink from the hidden- depths of those 
eyes that were feasting upon tl.e beauty which be- 
longed to her. She felt her own bosom move in pity 
md sympathy for him, but she could not tell him the 


is MARRIAGE A FAILURE? I03 

truth. The jeti (T esfrit had been carried too far now. 
If she had known the sorrow, the heart-weariness 
and longing that this evening’s freak would cost, the 
ludicrousness, nor the ridiculousness of her situation 
would not have stayed her tongue one moment from 
making a proud confession. O, what misery and 
grief are sometimes couched in the phraseology of 
one sentence, or the outgrowth of a frivolous act ! 

“Perhaps there is some analogy between Ligeia 
and yourself which will account for the strange fas- 
cination followed by a corresponding depression. We 
all sometimes see objects and read of characters 
which awake half suggestive impulses and ideas that 
superinduce the heart to give a spontaneous bound in 
awe of future dread. Yet when by introspection, we 
search for a cause there is a blankness in the testi- 
mony, and a profound mystery envelops the whole 
matter, leaving us extremely unpleasant, without be- 
ing able to ascertain the cause,” he said in a monotone 
indicating his earnestness. 

“Mr. Humphrey, you are an excellent metaphysi- 
cian, discriminating and analyzing with mathematical 
accuracy those recondite and abstruse subjects where 
the nicest distinctions of the mind are evolved; but 
I must call in question your ability to elucidate the 
comparison you suggest as probable,” responded Lois, 
attempting to interest him. 

“Before you handed me this book,” began Ray- 
mond, “this phantasmic production of Poe flitted 
across my mind associated with you. Why, I know 
not. Whether it w'as the mysterious influence of your 
electrified mind upon the slumbering impressions of 
memory, or the real likeness between yourself and 
the image hidden away in the vaults of sleeping im- 
pression, I do not know. But before Ligeia was men- 
tioned I thought of her, while regaling the eyes of ad- 
miration upon your face of symmetrical loveliness. 
Your difference from all other women — except your 
sister — adds an inexpressible freshness to your beauty. 
Your lofty forehead, faultless in its contour; your 
hair, blacker than the raven wings of midnight ; your 


104 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

unrivaled face, your complexion as white as ivory, and 
as luxurious in its smoothness; your mouth inex- 
pressibly sweet — the magnificent turn of the upper 
lip — the soft, voluptuous slumber of the under ; the 
dimples which sport and the color which speaks; your 
teeth radiating back, with a brilliancy almost start- 
ling — every ray of light which falls upon them in 
your serene and placid, yet most exultingly bright of 
all smiles ; these similar features in your physiognomy 
carried my mind back to the midnight hour when I 
first read Ligeia.” 

“There is no standard,” she began, “by which you 
can judge beauty. You men all have your distinct 
ideas of aesthetics, differing as widely as your god- 
desses do. Every man would call the object of his 
love beautiful, and to that extent she would remind 
him of Ligeia. Beauty is something which must 
awake the admiration of the soul or else it cannot ex- 
ist as a fascinating medium.” 

“Then you are my Ligeia, my beautiful one!” he 

said. 

Lois’ heart ached in shame at every word. 

Continuing, he said : “My heart has always had 
its spectral beauty ; but it never dreamed that its 
imagery would be realized in one so heavenly beauti- 
ful as you are. If other men could see you from the 
inner depths of the soul’s undying vision they would 
worship you with a love equal to idolatry and all 
other women would become dependent pests. O, be- 
lieve me, fair queen ! this is no boyish fancy, destined 
only to a spasmodic existence ; it is the real, the one 
and only love of a man’s heart. In all the realms of 
this and unknown worlds, there is not another who 
can take your place in my fancy. 

God alone shaped and fitted your disposition and 
character to harmonize in all its exquisite loveliness 
with the divinely given ideal of my own nature. 
How the soul in all its delicate mechanism is suscep- 
tible of impression, is a strange mystery to me ; but why 
I love, is answered in the complete submission of 
all my earthly interest into your care, to do this re- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? I05 

quires but the exercise of those fundamental princi- 
ples upon which the moral man is sustained. I love 
you because you meet the w^ants and demands of both 
my poetical and practical life. There are combined 
in you the stimulating influences that would enable 
me to manfully meet the disappointments that so 
often collide with us on the road of duty, and the soul 
of poetry which would catch all the wild heart-beats 
of secret meditation and return therh in softest kisses, 

“Now, lovely flower, whose beauty is all thine 
own let us drop the names of ‘Rowena’ and ‘Ligeia.’ 
My love is too ardent, of too deep concern, to post- 
pone what I came to say this evening.” 

“Oh. no ! please do not !” she exclaimed in her 
disgrace. 

He heeded not the soft, pleading words ; his 
heart was overflowing with love. 

“I have no beautiful home like this to let you rule 
as queen, but I own a small city home — not gorgeous 
and magnificent with turreted walls and shining 
roofs ; but it is the embodiment of simplicity and 
neatness. I want you for its queen — to rule with the 
'sceptre of gentleness its king — ” 

“Oh ! please ! please ! Mr. Humphrey ! you are 
mistaken,” she gasped in shameful despair. 

“Darling, how can you treat my avowal with 
such cruel indifference. Mistaken ! -mistaken ! im- 
possible !” 

“Not that way !” she exclaimed, meaning to tell 
him she was not Iris ; but over her poor, unfortunate 
head unrelenting fate held sway and stayed the words 
that, to-day unspoken, will be the means, in the not 
far distant future, of bringing the wicked to justice. 
Condemn her not ; it'^s the hand of destiny. 

Without noticing the interruption, Raymond 
continued ; 

“For months I’ve had the living witness within 
me. I have immersed myself in society’s throng, 
thinking when I emerged from its healing balm, this 
love would have disappeared. But ah ! deluded][fool 
I was ! No power can extirpate the^germinating seed 


Io6 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

which your lovely, divine orbs have sown in my soul, 
and about which it has ever sung in dreams and in 
reality. 

never saw an eye so bright; 

And yet so soft as hers; 

It sometimes swam in liquid light, 

And sometimes swam in tears; 

It seemed a beauty set apart 
For softness and for sighs.” 

“Mistaken ! Iris, you don’t know what you say. 
If I look upon you now and see your face, it is a myth, 
a phantasy, a soul-dream ; I do not see your face ; If 
so, I do not love you. If, when I breathe the odorous 
particles that emanate from the flower, I am mistaken 
— there is nothing fragrant about it — then I am mis- 
taken, and I do not love you. Impossible, Iris ! I 
cannot be mistaken. 

“ ‘Art thou not dearer to my eyes than light? 

Dost thou not circulate through all ray veins? 

Mingle with life, and form my very soul?’ ” 

Lois tried to speak : her tongue was silent. 

Raymond saw there was some great inward ex- 
citement, but did not know its cause. He thought 
she had become tired of his importunities, and that 
impatience had caused the jetty lashes to droop on the 
flushed cheek, that at his last words, grew deathly 
white. As he contrasted the pale face of pity and 
remorse with the peach-bloom tint of the cheek and 
the laughing eyes which smiled him a welcome, those 
words of Miss Landon passed over his lips : 

“Eyes that droop like summer flowers, 

Told they could change with shine and showers,” 

And a feeling of sad regret came into his heart for 
what he had said ; but he could not restrain himself • 
longer. His love was not a night-dream, but — 

“Love was to his impassioned soul 
Not, as with others, a mere part 
Of his existence, but the whole — 

The very life breath of his heart.” 

Looking into her face with eyes of burning elo- 
quence, he said : 

“O, Iris ! ” 


is Marriage A failure? 107 

“Would to God she could hear you!” was the 
agonized wail of Lois’ heart. 

“My precious, lovely Iris ! I am going to say 
good-bye. Sweet voice, the only music for my soul, 
I cannot resist the power of your love if I remain. 
The poet says that love makes cowards of the heroes, 
and the coward valiant. Iris, I have bowed the pride 
of my heart before you — offered you its queenship ; 
but, alas ! to no place or purpose. Henceforth I must 
never meet you. To-night I leave my home to go — 
O, God ! I know not where. My heart longs for some 
quiet home, where placid dreams and sweet images of 
you will be mv only association. 

“Away in my solitude the voice I hear will be — 

“ ‘There is not a look, a word of thine 
]\Iy soul hath ever forgot; 

Thou ne’er hast bid a ringlet shine, 

Nor given thy locks one graceful twine, 

Which I remember not.’ 

“Oh, Iris, why don’t you bid me stay? Did dis- 
appointment ever come upon man so suddenly and 
grievously — taking his soul out into the vast ocean of 
woe, where hope is dying and life but an empty shell? 
O, God ! I cannot — I cannot endure this burden — the 
gall of misery has burst into my heart. This is more 
cruel than murder, more poisonous to the soul than 
sin. Iris, my queenly love, forgive me if I make you 
sorrowful. Soon I will be gone, and tears will no 
more lave your wan cheeks ; but roses will bloom and 
your eyes beam brightness upon your soul’s choice.” 

“O, do not — for God’s sake do not ! I cannot tell 

you more; but it is — it is so ,” she exclaimed in 

her misery and speechless shame. 

He folded her to his bosom in one short, spas- 
modic embrace ; his lips pressed hers, and he wildly, 
passionately cried : 

“Iris, my beautiful goddess — my love-made Iris, 
in this face of exquisite beauty lies every mortal hope 
of my life. Is this the only time I will ever touch 
thy soft lips? The only timp I will ever entwine my 
arms around thy graceful image? When I am gone 


Io8 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

think of me^often, and pray for. me. It islove for 
thee that drives me away — unansivered love^ darling.” 

He gently replaced her in her seat, and, without 
uttering another word, walked rapidly away. 

She called out in despair: 

“Come back; come back! I know Iris loves 
you but her faint voice never reached his ears. 
She tried so often during his avowal to tell him of his 
mistake, but could not. 

% % % ^ Hi * Hi Hi 

Raymond Humphrey drove rapidly home, hur- 
riedly packed his effects and, without breathing his 
troubles or motives to any one, ordered them to the 
South Eastern ; and in less than an hour he was 
speeding his way behind the great iron horse to St. 
Louis. 

If, as he left Lois, he had looked to the right he 
would have seen the true Iris — the object of his real 
love; but his sorrow was too fresh, too severe and 
heart-rending to notice what was near him. 

Iris stood looking after him in chained, wonder- 
ing surprise. She saw him take Lois in his arms — 
saw the long, passionate kiss, but could not hear his 
words. She had been waiting for him in the draw- 
ing-room all the evening. Many times her heart had 
throbbed with pleasure at a sound she had mistaken 
for his footstep upon the pavement. She had longed 
for his presence with such incomprehensible desire ; 
now this was all of it ; this was her disappointment. 
While she was anxiously waiting for him, he was en- 
tertaining her sister with tender caresses beneath the 
luxuriant vines and fragrant flowers of a summer 
house. 

“Stolen kisses are sweetest,” she repeated ; “it 
must be so, since men and women act it.” 

It came like a thunder-clap upon her pure heart, 
and human nature shed its pride, leaving bare the 
heart in its .agony of acknowledged love. Yes, for 
the first time in her life. Iris Earle was compelled to 
confess, though with cons'cious shame, that she loved 
Raymond Humphrey. At first her mind and finer 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


109 

sensibilities of her nature revolted. But as she felt 
the color recede from her face, and cold beads of per- 
spiration, like rain drops, upon her classic brow, she 
involuntarily confessed ; 

“Yes; I love him ! My sister — begone that name, 
I will not call you by it any more ! Lois Allen, I 
hate you ! With my eyes and my beauty reflected 
over your black, treacherous heart, you have won him.” 

She gave one look at the white figure that lay 
prostrate, overcome and exhausted in chagrin and 
mortification, then turned her steps toward the house 
a changed woman — changed from a Christian, credu- 
lous woman into a proud, indignant, disappointed and 
doubting statue of stupified grief. 

The voice of love awakes the soul’s first cry of 
agony, and jealousy — “that lying fiend” — the “pain of 
pains” — it is king. 

“All other passions have their hours of thinking; 

And hear the voice of reason; this alone 
Breaks the first suspicion into phrensy, 

And sweeps the soul in tempest.” 




CHAPTER X. 


NORMAN AND LOIS. 

Yes, love indeed is a light from heaven, 

A spark of that immortal fire 
With angels shared, by Allah given 
To lift from earth our low desire. 

When Lois aroused from her exhaustion it was 
some time before she could fully understand what had 
occurred. Her first impulse was to tell Iris just what 
had taken place, and it any injury had been wrought 
it could be corrected. The question often presented 
itself, “How could she make the necessary explana- 
tion to Raymond Humphrey?” She was very sorry 
she had conducted herself so imprudently, and was 
highly enraged with herself for it. She half envied 


I lO 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


Iris as she thought how strong and nobly she was 
loved. The whole conversation rushed upon her, 
bringing with it a train of misery and regret. 

Raymond Humphrey’s low, musical voice still 
whispered in her ears the secret treasure of his heart, 
intended for the ears of none but Iris ; she had acted 
so dishonorably and unladylike as to enter the sanctu- 
ary of his heart, bringing distress upon herself and 
blasting the life of her sister. How was she to ex- 
tricate herself from this act of folly and relieve her 
conscience of its sore conviction.? 

While Mr. Humphrey was in his wild exclama- 
tions of love, her heart had been touched, and she 
longed for the first time in her life for loving arms to 
twine around her in tender sympathy, and breathe 
the story of a heart into her ears. 

The sun was descending behind the verdure 
crowned hills of the west, when Lois prepared to re- 
turn to the house ; but the genii who preside over 
Fate ordained that she should not go. 

‘‘Mrs. Allen, I have been searching for you an 
hour. I had persuaded myself that something had 
gbne wrong with you. I inquired of Miss Iris ; she 
knew fiothing of you. Where have you been .?” in- 
quired Norman. 

Lois raised her silken lashes while a slight shade 
of color came into her face. 

“I have been here,” she laughed. 

“What have you been doing.? You look so pale. 
Are you ill?” he said, coming to her side. 

•‘I am not myself just now, but will be present- 
ly,” she said with a look of indifference. 

“Tell me, Mrs. Allen, about yourself. You are 
to me what no other woman has or ever can be,” he 
insisted. 

As Lois thought over what had passed, she said : 

“Won’t some other time do as well as now?” 
thinking she would unburden her whole heart to him. 

“Yes, that will do,” he said gently, “but let us 
stay out in the inspiration of twilight. I want to be 
with you for a while. I have been so lonely this 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? Ill 

evening. Has my presence become monotonous that 
you preferred solitude to it?” 

“Mr. Wellington, your intimations are a little un- 
kind,” she interposed with an air of wounded esteem. 

“I did not mean them so. Only it was the first 
time you ever failed to pass the evening with me since 
I’ve been at Rosedale, and I thought the diversion 
might have been owing to my inattentiveness.” 

“You have been exceedingly kind in attending to 
my wants. I am sure I did not know my absence 
would occasion your slightest displeasure. Will you 
accept the earnest contrition of my henrt for this 
little point of waywardness?” she smiled over her 
sad lips. 

“You could not commit an act against me, or any 
one else, but that I would forgive it. I could not 
treasure up unkindness against you. My heart would 
revolt with all the indignity of my interior nature. 
Mrs. Allen, before my acquaintance with you ripened 
into our pleasant relationship, I was never called upon 
to think seriously of our existence ; but, with your 
advent into my life, there has come a generalization 
of the claims which the present and future hold by 
creation upon us.” 

She resumed her seat near him and folded her 
jeweled hands upon her bosom ; her eyes ag’ow with 
the suppressed tire of love, had lost their expression- 
less gaze of weariness ; a warm kindling interest had 
crept over her face, leaving traces of deepening color. 
She never grew weary of Norman’s conversations. 
To her he was par excellence. She looked into his 
handsome, fascinating face, contrasting it with the 
strong, intellectual one she had so often peered into 
during the evening out of eyes of cowering shame. 

Thus she answered him ; 

“If I have given you a broader and more Com- 
prehensive conception of the design of human crea- 
tion, it is a high source of gratification. It is a selfish 
aim, but it is usually the climax of our social ambi- 
tion to supply the demands of those for whom we 
have the greatest regard ; after this selfishness is ac- 


112 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

coinplished our love and aspirations become catholic. 
Tile most exemplary Christian has secret sins. We 
cannot 'crucify the flesh in that sense which elevates 
all men to a common level of attachment. In what 
way has life become a question of momentous inter- 
est to you ?” 

“When engaged in the busy world of traffic, I 
seldom thought of where I would go after death. I 
relegated such themes to the physicist of leisure, who 
had the ability to reason, if not to enlighten. I 
thought if I took care of the physical life, I would 
accomplish the aims of this world ; that the power of 
the universal God would provide admirably for the 
disembodied remains of my being at death. While I 
have not been converted from this universal salvation 
of mankind, regardless of dogmas, creeds, or conduct, 

I have called in question its justice and rationality ; 
and have been led to think seriously of the moral ob- 
ject the creator has woven into the creature as the 
goal of life.’* 

“But why do you poison your mind with these 
metaphysical theories concerning the future, when 
there has been a revelation upon the subject, placing 
beyond debatable controversy that man must arise 
from the dead and be judged according to deeds done 
in the body?” she said, rather triumphantly. 

“Mrs. Allen, my confidence in your honesty is at 
present the highest evidence I have of the truth of 
your religion ; but, if I am forced to dissent from your 
view as to its origin, and call in ques- 
tion the many fanatic and superstitious ideas con- 
nected with it ; I hope you will not grow impatient 
with me. Convince me that Christ is divine and the 
supernatural circumstances said to have attended his 
birth are a reality, then Christ’s enunciations would 
claim my sober and most reverential attention. Re-^ 
move this cardinal and fundamental assumption, 
which is by no means established or made an authen- 
tic fact, from the Christian religion, and of all articles 
of religious faith it is the most absurd and least 
plausible.” 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 


I 13 

“I am glad you came to me to discuss this ques- 
tion, because I feel that I will be able to convince you 
of your error, if not to-night, then at some future 
day. As you state, if Jesus Christ is not the Son of 
God our religion is false and an imposition upon the 
credulity of man. But I never felt the least doubt of 
its truth. The head of our church was not veiled in 
obscurity during his lifetime, and his assertion con- 
cerning his origin and himself was questioned by his. 
enemies ; every possible advantage was taken to prove 
him an imposter, but when tried in the courts of jus- 
tice by persecuting enemies, there was no guilt found 
in him. 

“His grave was made secure, but he burst asunder 
the cerements of death and came forth. You keep 
sacred the first day of every week to acknowledge 
his resurrection ; every time you write the day of the 
month and year you acknowledge his birth,” she said, 
her face aglow with interest. 

Could Lois have seen the ghostly figure that had 
stealthily crept to the summer house and buried its 
face in the vines to catch every word that was spoken, 
pallor and deathliness would again have swept over 
her face. 

“These are your witnesses whose testimony you 
would have me to receive,” began Norman. 

“The apostles are our witnesses, though he was 
seen of above five hundred after his resurrection ; be- 
sides the most authentic profane history, contempora- 
ry with the events of his life, does not deny that he 
arose from the dead. But for argument, suppose the 
twelve apostles are the only witnesses we have of 
this stupendous fact. Would not their testimony 
place it beyond controversy? Has there ever been a 
truth so firmly established but what there were a few 
dissenting voices? Then, if the intelligences of the 
world for eighteen hundred years have received the 
testimony of the twelve as credible, with only a 
few dissenters, does it not whisper, a great truth in 
your ears, and contrast you as a pigmy compared with 
the giant, minds who have thrown down the gauntlet 


1 14 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

of sin ; and, through the experience of love in the 
heart, proclaimed that they were credible witnesses? 
Civilization and education are based upon their testi- 
mony. Every church edifice, whether Greek or 
Roman, Catholic or Protestant, has for its moral 
corner stone the testimony of the twelve.” 

The pale figure, with eyes of “azure blue and 
golden ringlets,” drew a long sigh as Lois concluded, 
but it was wafted from their ears by the mild breeze. 

“Your reasoning is entitled to some consideration, 
but I rather think you hang too much of your faith 
upon the credulity of men. Admitting that you have 
all the traditional and historical evidence confirming 
the doctrine that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, how 
are you to ever harmonize its narrowness with the 
attributes of justice and mercy ! A father owes his 
children protection and education ; the child in return 
owes its father obedience to all just — not unjust — de- 
mands. Has a father the right to establish laws in 
his household economy which he knows, if enforced, 
will result in bodily harm to his children ? Men owe 
their gratitude where favors have been granted. 

“If God has created a certain portion of human- 
ity, whether by decree or free agency, to supply the 
wails of hell aud the other portion to enjoy perfect 
felicity in heaven, it is the most inhuman and barbar- 
ous act ever perpetrated. It is contradictory to the 
eloquence of Christ on the Mount, where he com- 
mands to “love your neighbor as yourself,” and an 
insult to brotherly kindness and sympathy. What 
kind of a heart would I possess if the whisper should 
come into my heart — ‘you are saved, but your neigh- 
bor is lost,’ and I exclaim, ‘Thank God, it is so.’ 
What is this? a hallelujah over my ow7i redemption^ 
and a shout oyer the calamity of my neighbor. Away 
with such bigotry and self-exclusiveness ! What a 
glaring contradiction ! What a medley of ingenious 
sophistry ! 

“Tell me on one page to rejoice over my own for- 
tunes, on the next page to ‘love my neighbor as my- 
self!’ Where is the man who is inspired by the great 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? II^ 

principle of social brotherhood that could steep his 
soul in the luxuries of heaven, without a soft murmur 
of grief and sympati.y for his brother who he knows 
to be writhing in the chains of hell? Reconcile this 
unfatherly, unbrotherly-like and monstrous doctrine 
with the attributes of mercy and justice and I will 
confess you have taught me white is black.” 

Norman had discussed this subject with Lois be- 
fore, but his feelings were about to get the better of 
his discretion on this occasion ; he could not enter 
into a calm, detailed statement of argument, as was 
his custom. He doubtless felt his cause was waning 
under the clear, logical answers which Lois concisely 
gave to his questions. Lois did not feel equal to the 
mental exertion necessary to a systematic reply to all 
Mr. Wellington had said; but, being stimulated by 
the importance of the theme and the admiration she 
possessed for her auditor, she determined on an effort. 

Tapping the palm of her hand gently with an ex- 
quisite bunch of flowers which she held in the other, 
she said : 

“Mr. Wellington, before I enter fully into a re- 
ply, I want you to answer a question. Is man a moral 
being?” She paused for a reply. 

After thinking a moment, he said : 

“Yes ; I assent to that.” 

She continued : 

“Your skepticism is rather on the altruistic order. 
Altrui.sm, when associated with Christianity prepares 
a man for heaven ; but then it looses its skeptical 
origin and is not known as altruism. You believe 
you should live entirely for others and that all your 
conscientious enjoyment must be enjoyed as a bene- 
factor of mankind? Admit it, and what promise 
.have you of a reward? But you smile and say, ‘To 
do good for a reward is selflshness.” Here you make 
a mistake. Our conscience is the soul’s barometer, 
either excusing or accusing ; to be guided by it is to 
do the best we can with the light before us. God’s 
love for duty beckons us onward until our lives are in 
harmony with His will ; He takes us home, blesses us. 


Il6 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 

not because we were actuated by the promise of re- 
ward, but because we did our duty as a moral respon- 
sibility. 

“In admitting man a moral being, you make sin a 
possibility. A 7noral being is a creatiu^e of conditions^ 
and of course is amenable to law. What law then is 
man subject to.^ One of his own device, or one co- 
existent vvith his origin — changing with the different 
periods of providential intervention. The very idea 
of a creature suggests law. The insect and brute 
have instinctive habits necessary to the full vigor of 
health. A moral being not only suggests a law, but 
a moral law. Then, pray who should be the author 
of that law but the creator of the moral being for 
which it was designed? Do you think God is unjust 
because He made man a moral being? He could not 
have made him anything else . except a brute, or have 
made him equal to Himself. The Bible is the oldest 
book and the only one that gives a history of the 
origin and destiny of man. It more especially dis- 
courses upon moral training, and is adapted in all 
respects to the wants of spiritual appetites. 

“Now, Mr. Wellington, until you have found a 
better, a more ancient one than the Bible, you will be 
constrained to accept it as the book designed by the 
Creator for the moral being — which you say man i.<5 — 
to instruct him in all things pertaining to his en- 
lightenment. This book teaches a hell prepared .for 
those who are disobedient, for those who of their own 
choice do another way ; it teaches us a heaven where 
the right-doing will assemble to enjoy rest — perfect 
rest.” 

Lois would have continued, but Norman inter- 
rupted wi -h a question : 

“What kind of rest will that be?” 

“A rest from weariness, from trouble, from grief, 
and all the irregularities of this life,” she answered, 
with all the faith of her sbul. 

“That word ‘rest’ has a charm for me inexpressi- 
bly sweet.* My heart craves ‘rest’ over the hopeful 
gleam that breaks from every parted cloud. I would 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? II7 

give the remainder of my life to tears of weeping, if 
I knew, in the end, rest — eternal rest would come. 
The great world of skepticism, with its constant 
vicissitudes charm me, while you are content with 
the simple faith of Christ. Ah ! it may be better 
after all. Do my views really strike you as being ab- 
surd?” he said, rather tenderly. 

“No, Mr. Wellington, I have great respect for 
your views, only you would supplant a living prin- 
ciple — the germ of love and hope — with a rationalistic 
dogma; but let us not enter upon another elaborate 
discussion of this subject to-night. You look wearied 
and careworn this evening.” She spoke in a gentle 
tone of authority. 

Norman looked into the perfect face of serene 
loveliness. Those words of Byron paused upon his 
lips : 

“Her eye was large' and dark, suppressing half its fire.” 

Then, without guarding his speech, he said : 

“Weary, yes weary. I have been so a longtime.” 

“Mr. Wellington,” she breathed tenderly, as she 
placed her hand near him, “are you thinking of poor 
Mrs. Wellington, who sleeps over at Elmwood? This 
morning I was at her grave. I gathered some fresh, 
dewy flowers and placed them upon it. When that 
‘rest’ comes of which I told you, you will go to her.” 

While offering words of comfort, as she thought, 
her heart felt a keen pang of jealousy that his affec- 
tions were lavished upon another, though it were the 
sacred dead ; to herself she tried to justify her thoughts 
by an attempt to console him. 

“I often think of the lone sleeper at Elmwood — 
the green mound covered with creeping vines and 
daisies, and the funeral day, but my trouble came be- 
fore then. I want a respite from it,” he said almost 
tearfully. 

The small figure couched in a black wrap whis- 
pered inaudibly : “The Sultan’s wife is keeping late 
hours with his friend. If he knew it he would hie 
homeward in a great rage.” 


is marriage a failure? 


ii8 


“You have,” began Lois entreatingly, “enlisted 
my sympathy. Do not forbid me knowing for what 
my dearest friend suffers.” 

Had Lois taken one glance into the past, she 
would not even have hesitated, but impulsively led 
the way to the house. Her admiration of Norman 
was so complete that, while in his presence, she was 
oblivious to everything else. She loved Norman — 
cold word, it cannot express one vowel of her adora- 
tion. She did not want to love him ; but it was im- 
possible to prevent it; in his presence her heart seemed 
to find perfect rest. 

“My dear Mrs. Allen, it is impossible for you to 
know all the secret impulses of my heart; but you 
must know what I have striven to keep a profound 
secret. T cannot think you have been totally blind 
and ignorant to what I have felt. Words are power- 
less to convey my feeling, but I 1 >ve you ! I have 
fought against this love since it first came that beau- 
tiful spring morning you came into my store shopping. 
This is a strong man’s love — the ripe passion of 77ia- 
tiire age and deliberation. I know you will tell me 
this is sin. I know it will cause you many nights of 
sleepless remorse. But, O, God ! I could not refrain 
from telling you to-night that I loved you, ” 

Lois unconsciously pressed his hand as she an- 
swered : 

“Mr. Wellington, I know you love me ; but it 
will be better for us never to give way to our feeling. 
You know my circumstances. I am a wife^ 

Oh ! how cold and hard the word “wife” seemed 
to grate upon her ears ; she was a wife only in name ; 
her whole heart belonged to another by ties of love 
which only heaven could burst asunder. 

“It may be better,” he gasped, “but is it possible 
It is fate against the weakness of man. ‘Love is a 
god, strong, free, unbounded,’ consuming every other 
passion, leaving me bereft of all power to act my part 
with worthy bearing.” 

“O, such sentimentality!” breathed the concealed 
figure, as she drank every word. A self-reproachful 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? I I9 

smile came over her face as she thought of whom she 
was, and who she was now. She admired the face of 
Lois as she saw it by moonlight, but she had no sym- 
pathy just then to give her. 

For one moment Lois realized with true womanly 
instinct that she was about to desecrate the sacred 
altar of marriage — bring irretrievable shame upon her- 
self and dishonor upon her husband. The crime was 
enormous to her unsoiled reputation; she lifted her 
eyes towards heaven as if imploring strength to fight 
this sin. But she felt that God knew she did not will 
to love in this way, and that though it was a sin 
against society, it could not be forbidden in heaven 
when love had come like hers. How expressive these 
lines from Elizabeth Flaywood, she thought, as they 
passed through her mind : 

“Love’s not the effect of reason or of will; 

Few feel that passion’s force because they choose.” 

“Her love had come without reason or will — some 
higher agent than herself was responsible for it. 
There was no justice or reason in saying that she was 
culpable for a thing she did not will or wish, and I 
can’t be mistaken,” she reflected. “If — 

“ ‘Love indeed is a light from Heaven — 

A spark from that immortal fire,’ 

“how could hers be a sin? It was but a higher order 
of attachment — not dependent upon external associa- 
tion for the nutriment upon which it subsisted ; but 
upon the impartation of the divine spark by the agent 
of her affections.” 

She felt God would protect her from any of the 
baser passions of human nature, and that he would 
keep such love as hers warmed by the holy fires of 
heaven. Lowering her eyes from the azure sky she 
placed them upon Norman ; his were burning with a 
light which told he was suppressing the strong, im- 
passioned and fervent emotion of his heart. She 
could not withhold a reply longer : 

“Can we not separate and forget all this? My 
soul measures your heart in all it could have felt for 


120 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


me.” Her voice faltered as tears inundated her 
cheeks. 

“Oh! Mrs. Allen, do you return my love? Tell 
me from your own lips!” he exclaimed half overcome 
with delight. 

She took his hand in both of hers and pressed her 
velvet lips to it as she whispered : 

“Is not this sweeter than words can tell you, but 
we must not, we must separate.” 

.“Must not do what?” he repeated. “Love each 
other? That which exists cannot be destroyed. My 
love is real ; it cannot — no never — submit to but one 
change ; and that to ‘despair.’ Did you ever think of 
a murdered heart, a wrecked and hopeless life.? — that 
is the meaning of the only change that can ever take 
place. We cannot explain love away ; we cannot as- 
suage it in pleasure or ambition ; it is the strongest, 
the most powerful passion of man ; all others must 
bow a suppliant knee before it. 

“ ‘Love is not to be reasoned down, or lost 
In high ambition, or thirst of greatness. 

’Tis second life; it grows into the soul, 

Warms every vein and beats in every pulse. 

I feel it here; my resolution melts.’ 

“You cannot mean that we must separate. My 
own precious Lois, (I have never called you by that 
name before ; how musical it is) you say that you 
love me. Has it been burned into your heart against 
your will — antagonizing the highest conceptions of 
life?” 

“O ! Mr. Wellington, do not plead with me. My 
heart has always been yours. I tried not to love you; 
I prayed — I fought against it ; but my best and surest 
strength failed me. I feel I owe to the man, who has 
at last won my heart, a full confession, trusting to his 
love for exoneration Do not censure me for loving 
you. I am but a 'woman, and God made me to love. 
There has always been an aching void in my bosom, 
and I longed for something to supply it. ‘Love’ — the 
whole of woman’s exislciicc — has come; but it was a 
long time, and when it did, it was shame, though 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? lit 

its secret bubbles were sweet. Oh ! would to God, I 
could recall the mistake of my life — that one sad, 
fatal mistake — marriage. Married to a man 1 never 
have or can love, a mistake that means misery, re- 
morse and death. Mr. Wellington, pity me, and don’t 
judge me by the inflexible rules of caste. 

“I am not the meanest of women — my conscience 
yet reproves me ; but could one of my sex endure 
this? No; not if she loved as I do you. My heart 
must speak its life or die. Stop the pulse in my wrist 
and I am dead — I am powerless to do this act without 
committing suicide ; so I can’t check the emotional 
breathing of love without murdering that which God 
has implanted within. I live, I breathe, I have my 
existence through you ; but I could love you exiled to 
some foreign land as I love you here. Your presence, 
in the spirit, would always be with me, and I couid 
live in the past when you were at my side.” She sank 
back to her seat almost exhausted. 

She did not want him to go away, but she knew 
it would be better so ; she never thought if she could 
bear to see him leave. 

Norman was deeply grieved ; he understood how 
passionately he was loved by Lois, and how much 
it cost to love him. He felt that he would be willing 
to sacrifice his life for her happiness. He knew she 
was a true, noble woman ; he had never doubted it. 

“Lois, we both have a life to live ; the future is 
veiled in obscurity ; we know not what is before us ; 
it may be separation or death ; but come what may, it 
will ever be my honest aim to shield your name from 
slander. I will be as true to you as I am to myself. 
But, darling Lois, let me stay at Rosedale. Do not 
drive me away by your disapproval. I fear you do 
not understand your own feelings or anticipate the 
day’s long-suffering and loneliness consequent upon 
such a move ; but, Lois, I will bear and dare all for 
your sake. If you decide definitely that you want 
me to go away, I will obey you. There is no grief, 
no sorrow, but what I will bear in obedience to the 
slightest wish of yours.. When I avowed my love to 


t22 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

you to-night I did it with all the sincerity and candor 
of mv nature. On this subject the future will find 
me as intractable and determined as the laws of the 
universe. My nature is characterized with a firmness 
that will never give way under the pressure of grief 
or the affairs of the world. 

“My heart and future are as much yours as if 
they had been so incorporated in the decrees. 

“ ‘Yes, let the eagle change his plume, 

The leaf its hue the flower its bloom, 

. But ties around this heart are spun 

Which will not, cannot be undone.’ ” 

“Lois, I have always been proud and unyielding 
to anything of this kind, until I knew you. You 
have wrought a great and wonderful change in my 
life. The first look into your face sent a thrill along 
memory’s line until it faded into indistinctness, leav- 
ing me in a maze of bewilderment. My remembrance 
was challenged to recall a chapter of events belong- 
ing to the past, which has baffled my most strenuous 
endeavor. I know it in the sense that I know I have 
a mind in communication with a consciousness that 
you have been associated with my past. There is a 
mysterious link which I cannot define with any de- 
gree of assurance. Your face wears the impress that 
the earliest ideas of love autographed upon my heart; 
symbolizing the first enamored breath that enraptured 
my childhood. The future ! ah, hopeless future ! But 
the adumbrating voice of prophecy echoes along our 
pathless future cementing our destiny with the seal of 
inflexible fate. Lois Allen, we can never be separ- 
ated. The Gods would cry out upon us. Our bodies 
may be dissociated, futile effort at separation ! Our 
souls — they will and must live with each other ; they 
will commune under the inspiration of a fragrant 
bouquet, and kiss while lost in a lover’s meditation. 
Lois, if your asseverations convince me that your 
happiness demands my absence, T will go away from 
Rosedale to-morrow. But, oh, darling, before you 
give me your final decision, be sure it is the true ex- 
oression of your heart. Upon this decision must rest 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 1 23 

all my happiness; for by it I am destined to know the 
nature of your love. 

“I can’t be happy with your love, unless I could 
make you mine by marriage ; but I will be far less 
happy without it. Darling, my sweet, precious Lois, 
beneath the soft refulgence of the moon, I want to 
make you a promise ; I call upon the stars, the em- 
blems of constancy, to witness it. My love shall be 
as eternal as the ceaseless hum of time; it shall be to 
you a monumental emblem of firmness and constancy. 
No petty cares, no pride^ no profound and heart-rend- 
ing sorrow, no financial reverses, nor all the ills that 
ever befell man, or all the victory that ever elated him 
can alter the edict that has gone from my heart — ‘I 
love you.’ ” 

Norman would have continued, but Lois inter- 
rupted him. She threw her arms around him in 
adoring grace, her velvet lips pressed his in a kiss of 
warmest love and frankness, as she exclaimed : 

“O, Mr. Wellington, I have drunk from the 
cistern of your soul until my heart is just overflowing 
with love. No,” she continued, as she buried her face 
upon his bosom, “I can never let you go away now. 
My heart always cried against it, but I thought it 
would be best.” She paused a moment ; lifting her 
classical head with its silken tresses, she drew his 
face to hers and added : “Surely it is all of my-heart 
to love you; such inexpressible, indefinable sweetness 
flows from love like this. There is so much I feel 
that I can’t say ; it is^n inexhaustible fountain, which 
Psyche drank from when she would please her god ; 
here Diana drank and her soul came on pinions of 
love to see the death-embalmed Endymion.” 

The rustling skirts of a moving figure arrested 
Lois as it glided away. Involuntarily she and Nor- 
man sprang to their feet and their eyes followed the 
retreating form. 

“Who could it be?” they questioned. 

“Evidently she has heard our entire conversation,” 
gasped Lois as she clutched Norman’s arm. 

“Did you see the white, ghastly face as she looked 




134 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 



SHE THREW HER ARMS AROUND HIM IN ADORING 

GRACE. 






IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 1 25 

at us?’ asked jMorman, not heeding Lois’ question. 

“What does it all mean? Is it a ghost, with 
golden curls that a Saxon queen would be proud of? 
Is it a woman’s haunting face that chills me? ‘Spir- 
its, when they please, can either sex assume, or both; 
so soft and uncompounded is their essence pure.’ 

“I must go in the house. That face haunts me. 
O, lost spirit from hades!” 

A wild, unearthly shriek rang out on the still air, 
resounding with terror into the ears of the living ; it 
was the shrill, keen voice of the maniac, mingled with 
that of desperation and misery. • • 

“O, horrors ! The evil genius is at Rosedale to- 
night. Why did those enraged eyes of deathly glare, 
dash revenge upon me? Norman, tell me it wasn’t 
tlie spirit from Elmwood that came to me for lovin^r 
you ?” 

As the last sentence trembled on her lips, she 
fell into his arms paralyzed with fear. 

The mysterious form that had disappeared, now, 
with cat-like tread retraced its steps, and stood within 
a few. paces of Norman watching the scene with eyes 
that rivaled hell in their fiendish gleam. 

¥c ^ % -k ^ ^ --k * 

But for the appearance of the strange visitor on 
the privacy of this scene we protest against naming 
its sequence. A few hours since, she was defending 
the creed of her church, her face aglow with the in- 
spiration of Christ. Was she sincere? Why doubt 
it? The duality of human life does not controvert it. 
It is the creed of Christendom where we would per- 
fect life, the flesh is present. Was it God or the 
Fates who protected this woman against the mad 
awaking desire of her impassioned nature — who in- 
terposed at a moment when the Christian intuition 
and fortitude of a life-time was about to melt as wax 
under the warmth of her voluptuous passions? The 
white rose of Christianity might have been sacrificed 
on the altar of unhallowed love, and the night have 
ended in a nameless crime. Such is the weakness of 
man or 'woman whether of the church or the 'world. 


126 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


If the facts exist, why ignore them. There is inher- 
ent, a germ, in the best life — most nobly lived, that 
renders sin a possibility. While a boy we have often 
toiled for hours in getting a large stone to the top of 
an overhanging cliff, in order to let it fall into the 
water below. Our only compensation was to hear 
the momentary splash. So when a woman, reared in 
the shadow of the church, the flexible tendrils of 
purity twined around her heart by loving counsel, in 
an hour — in a moment of wild, reckless, wanton en- 
thusiasm — falls from the highest altitude of true wo- 
manhood ; there is no compensation for the act that 
has undone the whole past ; there is no sorrow or re- 
pentance that will redeem her self-respect. We will 
say, and believe, it was the hand of the Infinite who 
lowered the curtains on this scene, which doubtless 
saved our heroine years of continuous regret. 


CHAPTER XL 

A villain’s revenge, 

“Durst thou have looked upon him being awake, 

And hast thou killed him sleeping? O, brave touch, 

Could not a worm, an adder do so much? 

An adder did; for with deadlier tongue 
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.” 

Several months passed away at the Ancil Ranch 
without, bringing much relief to the sufferings of Ed 
Loraine. Some days he would be much better, but 
his general condition remained unimproved. Age 
and affliction were slowly, imperceptibly taking him 
nearer the grave each month. His days seemed num- 
bered to be few, before death would consign him to 
the posts of the dead. He was glad that Ike Ancil 
had returned; it afforded him the opportunity of pre- 
ferring charges against him that would appease his 
conscience into quietude, and thus exonerate himself 
from all inward cowardice. The winter had gone and 
Ike had most assiduously avoided his presence, and 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 127 

eluded with commendable skill every attempt Edmond 
Loraine endeavored to make upon his attention. 

Whether this was because his callous heart cow- 
ered to face the man that he had so recrcanlly and 
foully wronged, or that he feared his presence would 
carry the sufferer’s mind back into that period of un- 
consciousness, and, as by divine inspiration, recall a 
verse that would explain a tragedy as dark as the 
Stygian gulf, we do not know ; but it was suspicious- 
ly evident that Ike Ancil’s actions were controlled by 
cowardly motives. He would not have returned so 
soon to his possessions but he thought Mr. Loraine 
had been interred in his grave long since, and that at 
Ancil Ranch there would be nothing to remind him 
of the hideous past. On his arrival he was greatly 
astonished, and determined to retrace his steps after a 
few days’ recreation ; but being an enthusiast for 
hunting, a devotee of travel, a lover of new places, by 
sympathy and innate affiliation the champion of the 
coarse and vulgar rabble, he became so fascinated 
with frontier life and lawlessness that he forgot every- 
thing else. 

Fred Russell sat constantly by the bedside of the 
helpless old man, administering with pleasure to his 
wants. He frequently met Ike, but they never spoke 
of the past ; their lips were tacitly closed upon that 
epoch they gladly would have forgotten. 

* * * * am going away to-day,” 

said Ike brusquely, as he entered the house as Fred 
left it to advise with some one of the “ranchmen.” 

“Going away !” exclaimed the invalid, as his eyes 
flew open with astonishment. 

Mr. Loraine was some stronger this morning than 
he had been in several days, and he was determined 
to arraign Ike Ancil before him as a culprit. 

“Yes, I will take the stage north this morning,” 
carelessly responded Ike. 

“Have a seat. I want a few words with you be 
fore you start,” requested Mr. Loraine. 

Ike obeyed reluctantly, as he stated, “I will have 
to leave in a few hours and will not have much time 


128 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

for you. If you had been anxious for a consultation 
with me, you should have availed yourself of one of 
the many opportunities offered during the winter.” 

“Ike,” began the old man, “I have longed for this 
opportunity ; but, if you remember correctly, this is 
the first time you have been alone in my presence . 
during your stay here.” 

Ike Ancil dropped his head with a cynical ex- 
pression of astonishment and reflection, but he made 
no reply. 

Mr. Loraine continued nervously : 

“How are the people getting on in the 
East and North? You know I used to be a lover of 
politics, literature and the arts ; but for about twenty 
years I have not seen a book or a newspaper.” 

Ike arched his eye-brows in feigned surprise as 
he said: 

“When I get back to New York, I will have some 
papers mailed you. You should have made this re- 
monstrance to me before and I would have seen that 
your wants were supplied.” 

“Yes,” murmured the old gentleman despondent- 
ly, “we had not heard from you in ten years until 
your sudden arrival last December. Ike, I can’t think 
you have been unconsciously blind to my deprivation, 
or to the abhorrence I have to this secluded life which 
I am forced to endure without even an explanation.” 

A dark, troubled scowl came over Ike’s face, as a 
puzzled, disapproving scintillation shone in his eyes. 
Again he sat speechless as his heart rankled with 
hatred and prejudice towards all pure and honest men. 
A man’s heart may be grown over with the callous 
burr of desecration until the sanctuary of conscience 
is closed to all admittance, yet the eye will glow with 
impressions it caught while the'^oul was dying to all 
moral conviction and sinking into the incorrigible 
waters of hopelessness. Ike Ancil had lost all respect 
for the higher impulses of human condition, and, un- 
fortunately for him, his face was the outward expres- 
sion of inward purposes. During the generating and 
developing process of his character the lineaments o 


IS Marriage a failure? 129* 

his face were stereotyped with such ^legmatic ex- 
pressions as symbolized with wonderful inflexibility 
and distinctness the assimilating work within. 

As Ike Ancil sat beside the bed of his victim if 
he did not feel it, he seemed the picture of guilt. 

“He swears, but he is sick at heart; 

He laughs, but he turns deadly pale; 

His ruthless eye and sudden start— 

These tell the dreadful tale 
That will be told.” 

But these ringing, moral reproofs, or any amount 
of illustrative lectures, would not have convinced him 
that he had ever committad a crime against man or 
God. He had all the instincts of moral turpitude, of 
a guilty soul, but his self-conceit and his transcendent 
love of self were so uppermost in his thoughts that 
none of his suggestions or acts, however foul, ever 
met a disapprobating sanction. His heart and hands 
were crimson with the worst plots and deeds, but he 
never realized it with an acknowledged sense of guilt. 

Edmond Loraine, observing the restless expres- 
sion in his eyes, continued : 

“I do not want to detain you unnecessarily long ; 
but there is something in the past which I want to 
know. I have asked Fred, but he absolutely refuses 
to talk with me on the subject.” 

“Go ahead,” frowned Ike, as Mr. Loraine paused 
for breath. 

“I am in a strange condition, the cause of which 
I am unable to state. I am a wreck physically and 
mentally. A number of years ago 1 fell asleep — a 
strong, healthy man of my age ; when I awoke my 
surroundings were changed. I was lying here in this 
bed a helpless, emaciated invalid ; since then I have 
been trying to solve the problem of its cause. My 
mind is never clear, and I cannot think with that 
mental vigor necessary to a full realization of my sit- 
uation. Frequently I find myself groping in the laby- 
rinthian shadows of hopeless bewilderment.” 

“What have I to do with all this?” interposed 
Ancil impatiently. 


130 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


.. ‘'There are certain transactions which you would 
keep concealed from me,” Mr. Loraine said firmly. 

“What right have you to demand of me a de- 
tailed account of my transactions, whether social or 
business?” rejoined Ike arrogantly. 

“Ike Ancil, I knew you when you were a boy — 
I know you now — that means something to you, don’t 
it?” hissed Mr. Loraine triumphantly. 

“You propound enigmas,” snarled Ancil. 

“Maybe I do; but I will try to make you under- 
stand me. You were a poor boy — now you are a 
Croesus. By what means have you obtained so much, 
wealth?” 

“Your question is not a pertinent one, Mr. Lo- 
raine. If this is the motive you have in detaining 
me, I must excuse myself,” declared Ancil, annoyed at 
at the question. He wished then that he had buried 
Ed. Loraine before he shipped him to Texas. 

“Hold !” ejaculated Mr. Loraine at the highest 
key of his voice. “I have more to say to you. What 
became of my sister’s children and their immense 
wealth? You know all about this matter, and I de- 
mand an unequivocal statement from you concern- 
ing it.” 

“Your insinuations are an insult, and were you 
not an old man- -an invalid — you* would answer for 
them to me this moment. I will state that your little 
nieces are both dead. As I was not appointed their 
guardian, I know nothing of the immense wealth you 
say they possessed,” he asserted boisterously. 

Edmond Loraine retained his self-possession ; he 
rubbed his hands across his head as if trying to lift a 
veil from his mind; he looked straight into Ike’s face 
as he said : 

“I am in your possession — and I was their guar- 
dian. I do not understand it. I can’t recall enough 
of the past to explain the mystery.” 

“Edmond Loraine, I cannot endure these insults 
any longer; and I have too much respect for your 
gray hairs to strike you. I must bid you ‘good-bye,’ ” 
he replied stiffly. 


IS MARRIAGB A FAILURE? 131 

“Ike Ancil,^(9, and I will put the ‘boys’ out after 
you to-night. I will charge you with fraud and have 
you arrested. I must have an explanation.” 

Ancil seated himself again ; an apathetic smile 
curved his lips. He saw and realized his predicament 
with wonderful coolness, but he was too old himself 
to be out-generaled by Mr. Loraine. It had been 
many years since necessity had compelled him to call 
into action those subtle, conspiracy making organs 
which had served him in consummating successfully 
the diabolical schemes which had enriched him in this 
world; but Mr. Ancil was at home ; he was enlisted 
in the special vocation of his life. There were as 
many ways out from under these charges as there were 
modes of deception or deeds of crime. When trouble 
and danger began to lower on the horizon of his life, 
prompt, speedy action was the only antidote he ever 
used to counteract their threatening. 

“Away then ! work with boldness and with 
speed,” be said, as he made a sweeping effort to check 
the coming torrent which proposed to engulf him in 
defeat, and disclose the guarded secrets of his heart. 
As he looked upon the imbecile, prostrate man, where 
he had been for twenty years, he did not even think 
who was responsible for it, or how deeply he had been 
wronged. The one question in his mind was, “How 
shall I deepen the cast of inhumanity and gain an- 
other victory over justice?” 

After a few moments of painful silence, he began: 

“Mr. Loraine, I am a dangerous man when I be- 
come enraged with anger. In my cooler moments I 
would respect your age ; but, tantalized and insulted 
as I am this morning, I am desperate enough to forget 
your position and do my worst.” He spoke the last 
sentence with his teeth champing in fiercest anger. 

Mr. Loraine remained calm, as he replied : 

“Ike, I know I have not long to live, even under 
the tenderest care, and so far as my life is concerned, 
it is beyond your power to shorten or prolong it very 
much. When you came to my house a poor orphan 
boy, as I believed, begging for a pillow on which to 


132 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


lay your head, I mistrusted you. You never impressed 
me as worthy of encouragement or sy'npathy; but, 
after I iiad given you shelter for a week, I could not 
drive you away. Ike, this is the end of it. There has 
been a deep, a damnable collusion practiced upon me 
in some way, and you are the instigator of it. Why 
should you have taken the trouble to have brought me 
a distance of two thousand miles, away from home 
and property, without my consent, and placed me in 
this uncivilized land, imprisoned and fettered in the 
shackles of disease and mental aberration, if not to 
perpetrate thievish and infernal robbery? Do not 
scowl and betray so much of that malignant, demoni- 
acal nature which has triumphed over your life, for it 
will not clear you or render you oblivious to the past. 
You are a guilty man, and you cannot deny it. You 
never thought my mind would gather its present 
strength ; but the Lord has spared me for this hour’s 
work. You will not tell me about the little girl’s 
property because you stole it. Fred Russell knows 
all this, but he is repentant. He said you were the 
man who could tell me about the past.” 

Here Ike interrupted with a bitter oath for Fred, 
as he said incoherently : “Yes, I might have known 
the skulking, white-livered pup would betray me. I 
shall have him ground. into mince-meat yet. A traitor, 
a recreant villain ! Cursed be the name and death to 
his foul, disreputable existence. There is no invective 
or obloquy too virulent for his crime. Whatever 
crime I have committed, I have never yet sacrificed 
my sacred honor ! 

“ ‘Lies it within 

The bounds of possible tilings that I should link 
My name to that word — traitor?’ 

“Fred Russell, you must answer to me this day 
for this sneakish deception. You do not deserve a 
place among men.” 

“Thou art a traitor and a miscreant; 

Too good to be so, and too bad to live,” 

and by the gods of death, you shall forfeit your life. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


^33 

My objects have been foiled by huinan power, never; 
and I register an oath they shall not be to-day. Ed- 
mond Loraine, you give more boldness to your speech 
than I ever want to hear again. If you knew wherein 
your interest lay, you would keep still. You may 
rest assured that I will never give you any explana- 
tion concerning the past. My lips are silent — forever 
sealed upon that subject, and So shall others be, if it 
takes death to quiet them.” 

Ike Ancil became very much embittered at his 
confederate, Fred Russell, when he understood Mr. 
Loraine to state that Fred had insinuated suspicious 
things abouc^^him. He misconstrued what Mr. Lor- 
aine stated and, under the false impression, burst out 
into a fury of invectives against Fred. 

Strange how a guilty man will take exceptions 
and confess his guilt, when there is not the slightest 
reference made to him. Upon every occasion he will 
let his self-conceit control his words and actions to 
the extent that always justifies himself to the condem- 
nation of others. All desperate characters have a sa- 
cred pledge which they call “upon honor.” Ike Ancil 
was not unlike the rest. There were certain things 
which he would not do, and anybody that did do them 
became obnoxious to him. He prated his “honor” be- 
fore his associates with a great deal of assurance and 
verbosity. He never associated with pure and truly 
great men ; he despised the. truly good ; while he al- 
ways applauded the rabid. 

He was as destitute of honor as a brute is of a 
soul • his affirmations upon this subject were but an 
empty play upon words. He did not intend killing 
Fred Russell, if he could make his escape from Texas 
without any molestation. He would sacrifice his Texas 
property rather than be exposed to the difficulties 
which Mr. Loraine and Fred could decree ; but he re- 
solved in his heart to fight to the bitter end, rather 
than subject himself to the slightest humiliation. His 
heart rankled with the poison of indignation, and his 
nature was in a flame of burning disgust with himself 
for ever having trusted the cowardly Russell. 


134 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


“Ike,” faintly whispered the astonished old gen- 
tleman, “I knew you were the man, though Fred did 
not say so. When the intuitive whisper of a man’s 
divine nature warns him, in the still hours of reflec- 
tion, of his worst foes, he may depend upon its truth 
in opposition to the voice of reason as heard from ex- 
ternal manifestations. Ike, I do not believe the 
children are dead. Your story is but an ingenious de- 
vice to deceive me, ” 

“You know as much about that as you will ever 
know, so shut your mouth,” interrupted Ike, greatly 
annoyed. 

“It may be so ; but if I do not live to bring you 
to a just account of your crimes, I have friends that 
will. There are men alive in the world who love jus- 
tice — whose aspirations are to protect their fellow- 
man from the malicious, designing sharks who are 
ever ready to clutch the honest, credulous man in their 
long, saflfron talons. Escape from your sins is impos- 
sible. If you do not suffer in one way you will in an- 
other, and ” 

Ike, again interrupting, said : “My life is my own, 
whatever my destiny may be, and if you don’t imme^ 
diately cease your meddling, I will put something 
down your throat that will coerce you into measure.” 

Ike had endured all his patience would bear ; he 
realized with a feeling of deep unpleasantness the 
truth of what the old man said. He reflected to him- 
self as he suspiciously glanced into Mr. Loraine’s face : 

“Come what may, this day’s work must be done 
well. Old man, say your prayers. Ike Ancil has 
never yet committed murder with his own hands, but 
the dark passions which inflame his bosom now are 
hellish enough to steel him for this — the most damna- 
ble of all crimes. You old knave! I have always 
detested and despised you ! It would have been far 
better for you to have left this day’s story untold. 
You have pulled the cord in my nature which will dye 
my hands in your gore. Magnificent fool ! to think I 
would leave you breathing on your bed of skins to 
publish with vehement affirmation what you think I 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


135 

have done ! It is better to die wise in your own esti- 
mation than to live a fool — a mountebank in the eyes 
of the world. There is too much for me to live for to 
have my plans thwarted this easily ’ in life. I have 
nothing to do but to remove the last trace of evidence 
there remains to effectually cover up the secrets of the 
past. The living witnesses of my crime are here, — 
why leave them to breathe curses and odium against 
me? I will not do my work with a knife or a pistol ; 
I have more subtle means to invite death.” 

He arose from his seat, opened his valise, took 
from it a small vial marked ‘chloral,’ which he kept 
from Mr. Loraine’s view. As he took his seat he re- 
sumed his reflections : 

“I will give the old hornet a dose by force. It 
will secure his death without engendering the least 
suspicion of foul play.” 

A pale, swarthy figure stood at the door, watch- 
ing with breathless interest, the whole proceeding. 

Ed. Loraine broke in upon Ancil’s reflections : 
“Ike, where are my children? Did you murder them !” 

“No ; but I will murder you, you old devil,” he 
muttered as he sprang from his seat and grasped Mr. 
Loraine’s neck with his long slender fingers. 

But before he could drop the deadly drug into the 
gaping mouth, a pale, enraged man had entered the 
door, and, with panther-like ferocity and activity, 
sprang to the rescue of the wronged man, ejaculating 
as he stayed the murderous hand, with a death-like 
voice : 

“Villain, stop ! How dare you to take this help- 
less man’s life? You are a giant murderer, — feasting 
your cowardly soul upon pigmies ! Hell will envel- 
op you in its wildest and most soul-excruciating flames. 
Tongue is not eloquent enough to portray the irrepar- 
able injury you have already done Mr. Loraine. Un- 
clasp your long claws ! By the name of those angel- 
like children you had imprisoned in the St. Anna’s 
Convent, I will protect their guardian, and bow your 
head with the deepest infamy. You have been a 
truculent criminal, a freebooter and a culprit, until 


136 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

outraged and insulted justice is on your path search- 
ing ; and soon the bloodhound, Ate, will ensnare you 
into her meshes.” 

“Hold ! traitorous miscreant ! My oath is law,” 
cried Ike harshly as he released his hold upon Mr. 
Loraine’s neck, to prepare for a combat with Fred. 

A dull lieavy thud sounded and Fred lay prostrate 
upon the floor, wounded unto death. 

Ancil excitedly left the house, mounted a small 
pony and rode rapidly away. 



HE MET A WEARIED, LONE PEDESTRIAN, WHO 
TURNED AND LOOKED AFTER HIM. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? I37 

Not far from the scene of murder, he met a 
wearied, lone pedestrian who turned and looked after 
him in strange surprise. 

Ike Ancil never once thought of Mr. Loraine af- 
ter Fred’s arrival ; if he had retained his usual self- 
possession, he would have completed his bloody work 
with splendid success. A few minutes after the clash 
of the pistol had died away, Ed. Loraine raised him- 
self upon his elbows and looked around the room ; a 
horrible sight met his eyes. Fred Russell lay with 
his face downward, dead to all appearances. The 
blood issuing from mouth and nose had eddied into 
little pools on the floor. 

“The scoundrel has killed him,” groaned Mr. 
Loraine as his strength gave away and he fell back 
upon the bed in complete exhaustion. He felt that if 
he had not been so bold in accusing Ike, he would 
not have proposed murder. 

“Fred is gone,” he thought. “Who will look af- 
ter me now ? He may have wronged me, but he grew 
sorry and endeavored to repair the injury by a life of 
devotion and self-sacrifice. I wish some strong, ac- 
tive and justice-loving man would hunt the black- 
hearted criminal down. Oh ! if I co^ild just remember ! 

I can almost get the broken story. Ah ! it vanishes 
from me like a myth. I have it, — no, it is gone ! It 
is just beyond the reach of memory — reminding me of 
a forgotten name. I verily believe my reason is re- 
turning. Along the dark ports of mystery I see the 
gray gleams of returning light. No ! no ! it is all 
dark again. Is it death’s murmur? The light is al- 
most gone. I hear the. storm-beating winds, the rumb- 
ling sound of distant thunder ; there is no breeze 
afloat on the air. What is it I hear? It is the 
herald of a mighty revolution. The sound is going 
away again — the storm is not coming. The light ! 
the light ! Ah ! I believe my mind is going to lose its 
incumbrances. 

“Already I am upon my mother’s knee — here 
comes my father ; there is our old home with its sa- 
cred spots, — my school-days and niy^ school-mates. 


138 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

My sister — she is kneeling before the marriage altar. 
Here is all my past — that which I have labored to re- 
call for twenty years. Oh, horrors ! what is this I 
see on the sea of life? There is Ike Ancil and Fred 
Russell administering opiates to me. They think my 
mind is lost in the realms of delirium ; but I am just 
in that unconscious state in which the mind sees with 
keener vision, while the body is paralyzed to all sensi- 
bility. But, mercy ! what gulf upon whose verge I 
stand ? A chasm of misery, mental aberration, dark- 
ness and despondency ; fitful gleams of memory, 
hatred, self-possession — what a mixture of gall with 
human life ! But I have endured it all. Holy saints ! 
Liberty! I am free!” he shouted aloud as he again 
lifted himself in the bed. 

This time his eyes flashed upon the face of a tall, 
handsome figure that stood in the doorway with his 
eyes fixed upon the man on the floor. 

The stranger stood, apparently not hearing the 
old man’s exclamation, so intently did he look upon 
the face on the floor swathed in its own blood. He 
had the bearing and appearance of a cultured gentle- 
man ; he had a high forehead, ample in breadth ; a 
face symmetrical in its outlines, illumined by a clear, 
dark eye, softened by a sad and worn expression. His 
consciousness of the presence of another directed his 
eyes around the room until they fell upon Mr. Loraine. 
Astonished and awed by the presence of such a per- 
son at such a scene, he moved back to regain his self- 
possession. 

Mr. Loraine observing his confusion and trepida- 
tion, questioned : 

“Who are you ?” 

“My name is Raymond Humphrey,” answered 
the stranger courteously, trying to attudinize himself 
to comfort ; then instantly, involuntarily, without a 
word, stepped over the soiled floor and bowed him- 
self over the prostrate form of Fred Russell. 


CHAPTER XII. 

In gentle love the sweetests joys we find ; 

Yei even those joys dire jealousy molests, 

And blackens each fair image in our breasts, 

The understanding of man has as many construc- 
tions with which to interpret the great lessons culled 
from observation, as the human heart has sources of 
disappointment and deprivation. The happiness of 
the world has to some extent for its foundation the 
marked differences of opinion exercised with reference 
to taste and preference. It is essentially true that 
there is a great uniformity of ideas upon moral and 
political subjects ; but even here, where society and 
the power of government are assailed, there is a wide 
variance if confined to private interpretation. 

The science of nature examined from the page of 
human rights interdicts man from thinking for him- 
self upon questions for which he is not specially de- 
signed as a leader ; arguing wfith effectual grace that, 
if freedom of speech and action is granted, the vari- 
ous conflicting passions and designs would launch the 
race into confusion and anarchy. 

Nations are cemented into a felicitous and har- 
monious society of union, not by any original concep- 
tion of patriotism, but by principles fought for, and 
held sacred by thetr fathers. Law is consistent, hav- 
ing for its primordial and fundamental aims, reason 
and jus<-ice. Human nature is a conglomeration of 
contravening foibles, having for its aim selfishness, 
regardless of equity, law or reason. For this cause 
man is incapacitated for making his own decrees, and 
is required to yield himself a servant to the governing 
principles which reason has enunciated as being jnst 
and consistent with the demands of every occasion. 

Before there can be a universal standard of right, 
all men must give their moral assent to the belief of 
certain rites and dogmas, and until a stride of this 
proportion has been taken in search for unity, there 
will be bitter division and ceaseless strife. While 
there are some things touching the general welfare of 


140 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


luimanity, it is essential for men to agree about, there 
are other things touching the special welfare of a sin- 
gle individual, on which a unity of tastes and opin- 
ions would wreck the lives of an army of men. 

Prejudice feeds the mouth of political factions. 
The religious faith of a mother is received as a sacred 
obligation by the child. Volition moves men into 
decision and makes them heroes or failures ; but jeal- 
ousy and love come without reason, will or prejudice, 
tyrannizing over nature, making physical, social and 
often moral wrecks. It has been an often propounded 
question to the student of human nature, “How the 
human race can be so numerous and each person have 
a distinct individuality, both in character and sensi- 
bility?” 

Every solution offered to this question by the in- 
genuity of man, has been clouded with cabalism and 
resolves the question back to its primary basis. These 
mysteries in occult science, belonging more especially 
to the province of Infinite Mind, reproduce them- 
selves with equal distinctness upon the social linea- 
ments and flexibility of tlie soul ; giving man a dispo- 
sition peculiarly his own, apart and detached from all 
others when circumscribed to the limits of sensation 
whether pleasant or painful. 

Love has its own individuality ; a substitute can- 
not appease its famishing hunger; 'every heart must 
drink from the fountain for which it thirsts, if its 
wants are realized. A change of will does not coun- 
teract the psychological impression of the heart, but 
it inflames and consumes it with the most cruel tor- 
ture. Woman or man from a high sense of virtue 
and modesty may crush young Cupid to a sense of 
perfect security while in his infancy; but as he thrusts 
his magnetic thrills into a full, impassioned nature, 
long valued honor, cold and proud virtue, bend until 
their obdurate fetters burst asunder, flooding the souls 
with such gleams of delight as prejudices the judg- 
ment and establishes the heart a throne of love where 
its king or queen must forever rule with unyielding 
tyranny. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


I4I 

Iris Earle’s life had been as placid as a tranquil 
sea with now and then a mild breeze rippling its deep 
blue waters. While a child, when other children 
wanted new dresses or childish articles, she never 
murmured ; she was always content with what she 
had. While other women were annoyed with capri- 
cious whims, and half the time in a splenetic frenzy, 
she was the one calm, lovable Iris. She never per- 
mitted herself to gossip or to become interested in 
Madame Rumor. The prayer, which the breeze 
hourly caught from her lips and wafted up to heaven, 
was that all men should have the conscientious needs 
of their hearts. She endeavored never to think evil 
of any one; but, being endowed with a fine intuition, 
this was the occasion of some warring with herself. 

She had slightly opposed her sister’s marriage 
with Mr. Allen, and never became fully reconciled, 
because she realized their married life was a verifica- 
tion of her apprehension. They were not happy to- 
gether, she knew they could never be ; however, she 
believed a change would come, proving all things had 
worked for the best. But love came to her at last, 
and she forgot all but her own hapoiness. Then she 
began to live a different life to what she had ever done 
before; the heart took hold of those little pleasures 
and hopes which must be enjoyed clandestinely, while 
external circumstances and interests are not invited to 
participate. 

The day came — as it must come to all who truly 
love — when the chalice of happiness was mingled 
with gall and she drank to the bitter lees. With the 
first knowledge that she loved came the first pang of 
intense grief. Jealousy inflamed her mind with sucli 
a fume that reason lost her sway and love its kind- 
ness. After she beheld the unfortunate scene in the 
summer house, she went to her room, unconscious of 
everything except that sl.e loved Raymond Hum- 
phrey with every heart beat, and hated her sister as 
poison. The sadness and anguish of a lifetime rushed 
upon her in an unexpected moment, crushing life, in 
its new-born happiness, into hopeless nothingness. 


142 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


The loathsome passion, which none but the spotless 
ermine of woman’s conscience can feel, rancored in 
her bosom like a mighty cobra, biting and distilling 
its virus at every rage ; she was shocked and horrified, 
but there was a deeper wound than offended modesty, 
a treacherous sister had stolen her love and appropri- 
ated it to her own ungodliness — that sister had one 
husband, and that fact ought to be a finger of warn- 
ing to her interference with other men. 

Iris tried To believe her distress was the out- 
growth of the shock she received on learning her sis- 
ter was weak enough to stoop to such conduct ; but 
her premises were wrong, and she could riever satisfy 
herself with such reasoning. If Iris had not loved 
Raymond, she would have been very indignant and 
much horrified at Lois; she would never have been 
driven to that misery and desperation, to that burning 
rancor with which she disdained those ties that made 
them dear to each other in a sister’s love ; she would 
have gone to her with heart burning with deep anxie- 
ty and sympathy to persuasively plead with her to 
discontinue her conduct ; as a reason she would have 
pointed her to God and the awful consequences of 
not continuing in the way where His promises may be 
found. 

It was different now. She was too deeply morti- 
fied and chagrined to rest ; she walked the floor of 
her boudoir until the air grew suffocating, then she 
would walk the magnificent hall, never pausing to 
look at the frowning statues which cast their cold 
gleams frojn every nook, nor the saintly pictures 
which ornamented the walls. She was unconscious 
of her many steps. Mr. Wellington had asked where 
Lois was — she shook her head ; she could not speak ; 
that name fell uoon her ears like the hiss of a serpent, 
and stung her heart with the viper of jealousy until 
the green virus coursed her veins in boiling fury. Be- 
fore she knew Mr. Humphrey she had never loved 
any one but Lois. They had been two orphan sisters 
married in devotion to each other; one never had a 
want but what the other tried to supply it. Every 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? I43 

one knew them as the “twin sisters,” and believed 
that they lived in each other. 

When Iris became exhausted in her grief, she 
threw herself across the bed in wild despair. Her 
silken lashes soon kissed the tear-stained and swollen 
cheek in sleep. It was a frightful, delirious sleep that 
came to her. All night horrible phantasms and 
ghostly apparitions of wildest fancy played around 
her in portentous array. 

“O, Lois!” she would exclaim from her dreams, 
“my only sister, why did you do so? You have ruined 
our life. No change can come which will replace the 
honor you have sold, and repair the injury you have 
done me. Your face is the counterpart of mine; but, 
beneath the external physique of humanity, there is 
an inner being from which emanates our true exist- 
ence. O ! think not I’m made of marble and stone, 
and cannot love as well as you. He was mine — not 
of choice, not of pleasure — but because heaven willed 
it; and you — O 1 you perfidious, false sister, stole him 
from me ;” such were her murmurings all night. 

About eleven o’clock Norman bore Lois in his 
arms to her. door and knocked; she never heard him. 
He decided it might be best not to disturb her, and 
withdrew his call for admittance. 

Luis soon aroused from her swoon, perceiving 
she was in her own room, inquired faintly : 

“How came we here?” 

“I«brought you,” Norman answered. 

“Where is it? O! what was it? Mr. Welling- 
ton, I am affrighted,” she said impetuously. 

“I do not know, Lois, who it was ; but I know 
what it was. It was a woman with bright, shining 
hair like Berenice. Rest yourself upon this point 
that it was a real person. Control, yourself ; she can- 
not harm you. I will see that all the doors are se- 
curely closed. When I go down, if she has not taken 
her exit, I will make an effort to get some information 
from her,” he said as he prepared to go. 

“Please do not go down stairs any more to-night. 

I will feel safe without it. That must be a mad wo- 


144 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


man and she would harm you, if you attempted to 
molest her. Won’t you promise?” she entreated. 

“Yes, Lois; I will do anything you advise. Your 
will is the most persuasive logic I have ever known. 
I want no better reason for a deed than it,” he smiled. 

’A soft, pleasant light came into her eyes as she 
playfully asked : 

‘•Do you love me so much?” 

“Yes, and more. Do you doubt it?” he returned. 

“No; I could not question your word. If you say 
so, I believe it ; but I fear it is so abundant now that 
it will waste away, and in a few years you will cease 
to love me,” and a sweet laugh rippled over her lips. 

‘•Lois,” he said earnestly, ‘‘I pledged my love to- 
night bv the stars ; it will be as eternal as they are. 
In going back over the history of myself, I have firm 
and tangible assurances of my own constancy. You 
know sometimes a person can divine their opinion 
upon a given theme at any point in the future by the 
circumstantial data of the past and present. But, 
Lois, our separation is liable to occur at any time at 
your choice. You shake your head now — but let us 
leave the question for time to determine. I bebeve 
you love me — will always do so — but I think the time 
will come when pride and your predominant wish for 
your own happiness, regardless of mine, wdll suggest 
tliat you may be happier without it. When the time 
comes, all the explanation you will condescend to give 
me wdll be, ‘The whole affair is sin, and you a^'e going 
to do better.’ At the time you come to this conclu- 
sion, you will doubtless believe that you are acting 
under the inspiration of pure motives; but the whole 
of your proceedings will be but the vague hope of 
ameliorating your condition wdthout direct reference 
to the sin which you have coi^imitted.” 

“Air. Wellington,” she said, ‘’how can you love 
such a cliaracter as you portray me?” 

“Lois, darling,” he said softly, “I do not want 
to say anything unkind. I was only giving an out- 
line of human nature when inwardly photographed. 
Whatever contradictory frailties I may find in your 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


H5 


nature will not counteract my love. My heart is con- 
ditioned against possibilities, fickleness and a cer- 
tain amount of vacillation. So, whatever character 
the future may develop for you, my fate is fixed. Will 
you not let time prove your love?” he said as he kissed 
her good-night. 

She faintly whispered, “Yes.” 

Lois passed a night of quiet repose. She had 
inured herself to whatever irregularities there might 
be in loving the man to whom she was not married. 

“Iris, love, what are you so gloomy about this 
morning?” she asked as they were leaving the dining 
hall after breakfast on the following morning. 

“I am not quite well,” she answered in an evasive 

tone. 

“You looked quite ill yesterday when I saw 
you,” added Norman, turning to Iris. 

“You must not get sick. Iris. We will go to 
Saratoga next month,” said Lois soothingly as they 
all entered the drawing-room. 

“I will remain at home this summer,” she replied 
curtly. 

“Not with my consent. I have never been from 
home without you, and I am too old to begin new 
habits now,” laughed Lois as she asked herself, “what 
has come over Iris to make her so moody. 

“I will see Humphrey in town this evening, and 
I will prevail on him to go,” said Norman, apparently 
with little concern. 

At the mention of this name Iris instantly fixed 
her eyes upon Lois to see if her expression would 
change. It did change. All the light and color de- 
parted from her face, leaving it pale with shame. 
This Iris misinterpreted, and her soul became more 
bitter as she thought of what she had seen. 

“At any event, I will stay at home,” said Iris 
faintly, fearing to trust herself to say much. 

“Well, Humphrey will too. He affirms your home 
shall be his,” explained Norman with a laugh. 


146 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

“I am very fortunate to not be left alone,” she 
sighed. 

“I will remain with you,” returned Lois, attempt- 
ing to regain her self-possession. 

Iris again misconstruing her language, flashed 
an ironical retort : 

“I will, of course, understand the sacrifice is for 

me.” 

“Why certainly, sister. Your tone gives your 
words into a meaning which I am sure T do not un- 
derstand,” replied Lois, a troubled expression upon 
her face. 

“Let us all stay or observed Norman, en- 

deavoring to conclude the subject. 

“Iris must know I would not leave her,” replied 
Lois with wounded love. 

“People do not know much now when every one 
is for self,” said Iris as she clasped her hands in pain- 
ful agony. 

“Iris, sweet,” said Lois tenderly as she changed 
her seat for one at her sisters side : unclasping the 
locked hands and taking them in hers, she continued ; 

“What is the matter with you? Are you ill? 

“No; I just didn’t rest well last night, but will 
soon be myself again,” she said as she shrank in faint 
rebellion from Lois’ caresses. 

If Lois could have peered into the bleeding heart, 
and read the last twenty hours’ proceedings as recorded 
there, she would have applied the only remedy which 
possessed the curative properties necessary to a com- 
plete restoration of health. 

How often could we make ourselves the benefac- 
tor of a friend, if we only knew for what the poor 
grief-stricken and starving heart was yearning. There 
are but few people who wish to appear unkind ; but 
there are many who are very unkind. 

Lois would not have said or done an unkind 
thing to Iris for her own heart’s love ; but uncon- 
sciously and unintentionally she placed herself in an 
unfortunate position which was the direct means of 
obliterating from her sister’s life the last cherished 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? I47 

hope of happiness her heart .could conjecture. There 
are events which come into our history without any 
special reason orMesign, rushing themselves upon the 
will with such suddenness that results are not antici- 
"pated. If a person always knew whom his words or 
acts had touched that a confession of purpose might 
be made, the innocent would always exculpate them- 
selves. 

Lois Allen had by one thoughtless act, made two 
hearts miserable and wretched beyond description. 
She had torn them from the highest order of love, 
hope and bliss, and dropped them into the pit of gloom 
and aching despair. She was unconscious of it all. 
No voice of warning was whispered into her ear from 
within, rendering her uncomfortable without stating 
or implying the cause. There is nothing to condemn 
Lois, or to justify her; her conduct was thoughtless, 
unadvised, of accidental consequences. It was one 
of those cases in which fate planted the seed and 
reaped the harvest. 

Iris was blessed with a very tender and com- 
passionate nature, but she could hate under the in- 
fluence of offended pride, as well as love and forgive 
in cooler moments. 

At first, when her wound was fresh, she thought 
she could never endure her sister’s presence again ; but 
rest came, her mind began to seek for its normal con- 
dition, and with the reaction her bitterness assuaged 
to that extent that she resolved to live outwardly as 
she had done in the past. This was a more difficult 
task than she expected. She was young especially in 
experience with the emotions that grow out of a sor- 
rowful heart. 

“Why didn’t you send for me, when you found 
you were not going to rest well ?” replied Lois loving- 
ly, without heeding Iris’ aversion. 

“You were in the garden until late last night,” 
she said with a coldness characteristic of the occasion. 

The reply was a trenchant one that cut into 
Lois’ heart like a razor of death ; she turned even 
paler than she had been ; her heart fluttered with a ter- 


148 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

rible fear as she thought of her sister as a spy ; but 
the idea scarcely had birth ere she disclaimed it. 

Norman in the meanwhile had been looking at 
the two faces with a studious mind. “Two faces a 
fac-simile of each other, not a trace of discernible dif- 
ference in their outward appearance, and both sweet 
and lovable in disposition. Dress them alike, place 
them before their mirror, and except by some ex- 
ternal motion or position, they would be unable to 
know each other apart, — the same in all respects 
except there are two persons. What man could love 
one without loving the other?” 

At this point in his reflections he examined his 
heart to see if he did not also love Iris ; he found noth- 
ing akin to his passion for Lois. 

“How is it” he continued a little mystified as if 
the idea had never dawned upon him before, “that I 
have chosen to love Lois — another man’s wife — while 
there is Iris whom I could love without shame, and 
wed with pride? Certainly if I love one I can love 
the other. I will think upon this subject. If I find 
it possible, I will submit the facts to Lois and act up- 
on her suggestion. This would be no retraction of 
love; it would be loving one for another’s likeness.” 

At this juncture. Sambo, a trusty negro of the 
place, appeared in the door. 

Lois released Iris’ hands as her face brightened 
with curiosity. 

“What is it?” questioned Norman, as Sambo 
stood with one hand in his pocket the other holding 
the hat he had so politely doffed, his eyes glistening 
with bewilderment, his mouth disfigured with an 
ugly, foolish grin. 

Massa, Massa, and both Misses, dis yar nigger 
is not dreamin, and, by de holy Saints, aint had any 
cider, but I wish dis yar nigger was in hebben — Mas-, 
sa, how you gwine to git yerself to recebe dis yar 
nigger’s story wib eny crebence? But shore as de 
holy Moses cross de Red Sea wib a light before him 
and cloud behin’ him, dis yar nigger seed.— -Now yer’s 
not gwine to belieb it ” 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


149 

“Believe what?” interrupted Norman with a 
curious smile. 

“Gib Sambo time, and he come to der pint. I 
neber dreamed dis I’m gwine to tell. I’s not alive if 
ebery word not so. Its wonders to yer white folks if 
yer belieb it, kase I’m gwine to tell fax. Sambo seed 
wib his eyes wide open as dey is dis minit, ” 

“Sambo, tell us what you have seen ?” exclaimed 
Lois, her face pale as death and her eyes shining like 
stars. 

“Dar, Missus, yer all have got no pashuns wib 
an ole nigger. I’s fining out dis yar’s a big untakin 
fur ole Sambo to quaint you wib what he wish he 
neber seed. I spec I’m gwine to commit de orful 
» sin gin de holy sperit.” 

“Uncle Sambo, tell us about it. I will believe 
your story,” interrupted Iris in a fatigued voice. 

“Dar, Miss, I dunn ) which one yer is — yer is so 
much like one anudder dat I can’t tell yer apart. 
Lawza me, dis yer nigger needs killin’ ; he scered de 
missuses alweddy till dar faces as white as a cottin 
patch.” 

- “Sambo, donH giv^ any more preliminaries, but 
let us hear what you came to tell us,” said Norman 
authoritatively. 

“Well, Massa, yer wud not belieb me if I gwine 
ter state de fax at once. Do yer all belieb in sperits?” 

“Yes, Sambo, Haven’t you got a spirit?” asked 
Norman, almost overcome with Sambo’s ludicrous 
gestures. 

“Yes, sar ; of course dis nigger got -a sperit; but 
dat’s beggin de quesshun agin der issure I’s tryin to 
raise fur dispute.” 

“What kind of spirits are you talking about?” 
asked Norman. 

“Dar now ; trying ’plex Sambo. Eberbody 
knows dar’s libin’ sperits.” 

“But who would be afraid of dead spirits?” said 
Norman, trying to confuse Sambo more. 

“Oh ! Massa, dat’s a little onfair to obstruct dis 
nigger wib yer larnin. I’s got dare of’en de queshun 


150 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

now; if yer all had let me ’lone, I’se had yer head a 
swimmin’ hot wib curosty.” 

“Mr. Wellington; do not interrupt Sambo. Let’s 
hear what he has to tell,” interposed Lois. 

“Yes-um,” bowed Sambo, until he almost touched 
the floor. 

“My ole Missy alus wer considerin’ for me, case 
she knew I knowd nothin’ of siens. Law help me 
der saints ! I’se gittin’ square off de trac agin.” 

Sambo dropped his eyes to the floor in wistful 
thought, trying to remember for what he had come. 
Suddenly, his mind awakening, he began: 

“I knows yer’s gittin’ ’nuf of hints and itchin’ tur 
de pure, blank trufe, and dat’s what Sambo’s gwine 
ter tell. Yes; Massa^ stay still till I get fru wib it. 
But upon my soul, fore de whites and blacks, dis place 
am ha’nted. Mighty God uf heben, hab mercy upon 
dis poor black soul, if it taint so. Misses, I’se sinnin’ 
to tell ye, case yer can’t breve easy here.” 

“How do you know it is haunted.?” asked 
Norman. 

“If Massa had looked whar dis nigger saw, — 
I’s scered to eben fink uf it — ds-ghost — we all saw it. 
None uf us sleep de whole night. Men uf ole Isreal, 
keep eyes ’way frum me, it dese aint de fax ! I 
Stan’ subject to correction if I debiate. But, I’s bin 
lamed dat all trabelin frum der grave er like women, 
and war dresses. Dis here were like all 
de rest I eber herd ’bout.” 

Well, Sambo, what did you learn about it? Did 
you talk to it any?” said Norman, as he glanced 
across the room to where Lois and Iris sat as motion- 
less as statues. 

Sambo did not reply instantly, as it required a 
moment for him to recover from the astonishment 
which Mr. Wellington’s question produced, — to think 
that he would have so little sense as to speak to a ghost ! 

“Great heben, Massa, yer fink dis yer nigger los’ 
what little sense he did had, — to go ’bout speakin’ to 
sperits. I’s seed one. I sware fore God dat’s all I 
know ’bout it.” 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? I5I 

“What did it look like?” gasped Iris. 

“I ’dare ’fore God, yer got me again. Kase I 
never seed nuthin’ anyways like it since I been born,” 
replied Sambo, as the perspiration poured down over 
his inky face. 

“I think you have told us about all you know 
about it now. May be you will see it again in a few 
days, when you will learn more about it,” interposed 
Norman, with a laugh. 

“Yes, sar; but sartin as I eber see it again I’ll 
spoon away; sartin to do so, Massa. Yer neber see 
ole Sambo ’gin. Misses, I aint jes told yer dis ter 
’cite yer into faintin’. I go now case yer face’s 
looking scery.” 

“Keep on the watch,” advised Norman, as Sambo 
took his departure with a gratified smile. 

“It was certainly some weird phantasy of Samba’s 
mind,” observed Iris, a little more interested than she 
was willing to confess. 

“He certainly did not see any ghost,” added 
Norman, as his mind lost itself in the thought of the 
pale, deathly face he saw in the moonlight. 

Lois was too near overcome by the numerous 
facts that Sambo’s conversation had suggested to her 
to participate in an analysis of what had been said. 
Her heart told her that some mysterious person was at 
Rosedale, — that the secret of her life was in their pos- 
session. She excused herself on some pretense and 
quickly passed up the long flight of stairs to her bou- 
doir — a sad, distressed woman. 

Norman and Iris spent the entire morning in 
conversation. They were neither happy nor enter- 
tained very pleasantly. The burdens, the heartaches, 
the silent, bitter regrets that they were forced to en- 
dure were strongly combative to all real pleasure. 
That day with several more slipped by on the golden 
wings of time, but not without distilling both joy and 
sadness. 

Richard Allen had not been heard from for many 
months ; some supposed he was dead ; but Lois 
thought differently; knowing her husband’s disposi- 


152 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

tion, by means of a quick intuition she weighed with 
caution the possible surroundings that might prevent 
him from writing. 

The report was widely circulated that Raymond 
Humphrey had disappeared very mysteriously, leav- 
ing his business to the care of the gods. Iris at- 
tributed his sudden, ill-advised conduct to the shame 
and self-reproach he bore for having permitted him- 
self to love a woman who was already a wife. Her 
constant prayer and the strenuous effort she made to 
govern the involuntary emotions of her heart were 
objectively wrought that at some future time she 
might abridge the past with happier memories. The 
general aspect of her life had assumed its normal 
equanimity, carrying with it but slight traces of the 
slumbering fire within and the overpowering grief of 
the past ; but along the contemplative avenue of 
meditation, while her soul was absorbed in com- 
munion with its own environments, a compulsory, 
spontaneous feeling would at times rise, in which her 
whole nature would be submerged into a paroxysm of 
irretrievable despair. In these painful retrospections 
the human soul in all its distortions and inconceivable 
shapes was photographed as a beautiful, inviting 
flower whose exhalations were fatal poison. 

Norman cultivated her acquaintance with per- 
sistency, despite the repulsion he met from his own 
feelings. He had determined — with the resolution of 
human strength — to love her for her sister’s sake, and 
in some metaphysical way expiate his actions from 
guilt ; but this was a useless and fruitless task, except 
to convince and enlighten him of one thing — ‘that 
man could not love whom and where he pleased 
that it was not the outward symmetry and beauty of 
woman that aroused the one true love of the heart, 
but rather the inward disposition and divinely appro- 
priated life whose charms encircled their external 
environment — or body — invisible to the external eye, 
like odoriferous particles only perceptible when 
brought in proximity to that peculiar sense adapted 
to their enjoyment. The heart — that sense which 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? I53 

must be touched or all love is but a fantastic chimera 
— is adapted to inhale the rich fragrance and 
beauty that emanates with so much exuberance from 
the mutual infatuation of love. • 

Lois and Iris were as distinct as white and black 
in their inner individuality. Not that one was a bet- 
ter type of true womanhood than the other, but that 
the requirements of one of their emotional and senti- 
mental natures could not by the inherent law of ap- 
petites meet the response of the other. Each of their 
hearts possessed latent passions, which, when afoused, 
demanded something separate and apart from the 
other. To all external appearances they were the 
same, and there was no visible or plausible reason 
why, if a man loved one, he could not love the other; 
but the eyes of the soul no man can comprehend, for 
they see by inspiration ; its voice is louder than rea- 
son, for it controls judgment. 

Lois had become almost reconciled to her fate. 
She thought that she had not done so wrong after all; 
she administered consolation by believing she had not 
done anything more than any other woman would 
under the same circumstances. But still the white, 
pallid face haunted her. She tried to conceal herself 
from it in thoughts of her love for Norman ; but that 
face had been daguerreotyped upon the diamond plate 
of her soul with such distinctness ti.at memory would 
not close her portals. 

One day near the last of June she repaired to the 
library alone, hoping to meet Norman ; taking a seat 
near the large window that opened on the western 
balcony, she drew a sigh of disappointment as she 
found the room empty. As her thoughts drifted out 
upon the wide ocean of mcjditation, her eyes rested 
upon the beautiful green trees and vines that swayed 
so gracefully beneath a mild wind. She went back 
over her whole life, reviewing it with the same inter- 
est that one does a book they have read before. 

“I have an unpleasant history,” she thought ; 
“one fraught with so many mistakes (not of a minor 
kind) ; but such as, when once consummated, bring 


1 54 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

endless regret. I can never retract what I have done. 
Any apology I might offer to the world for it would 
be received with coldness and disdain. I am so 
gloomy this evening. I wish Mr. Wellington would 
come, we could have such a delightful hour in which 
to read together.” 

Suddenly she heard a footfall ; her heart gave a 
a pleasant bound. “It is he,” she thought. Her face 
became radiant, as her eyes lighted with pleasure. In 
a moment some one was at the door. She called, 
“come in,” and waited in sweet anticipation of 
the next moment, when Norman would be at her side. 
Observing there was no immediate response to her 
invitation she turned to know the cause. The color 
fled her cheek, the light flickered in her eyes, while 
her heart sank with disappointment and fear. 

“Is it Iris or Lois? Don’t you know me?” he 
said tenderly as he walked toward her. 

Her lips did not move ; she sat in speechless si- 
lence, while a tremor of horror convulsed her body. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

RICHARD Allen’s dilemma. 

0 wretched is the dame to whom the sound 
“Your lord has returned;” no pleasure brings. 

— Maturiu’s Bertram 

1 have not quailed to danger’s brow 
When high and happy need I now? 

— Byron’s Giaour. 

“Speak to me. Is it my wife?” he said persist- 
ingly. 

“Yes,” she gasped faintly. 

“How glad I am to see you,” he exclaimed as he 
drew her into his arms and kissed her in rapid succes- 
sion. He felt she was trying to withdraw from his 
embrace, and misinterpreting her motives he refrained 
from giving full expression to the wild impetuous 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 1 55 

gladness that he felt on being at home again. He had 
often thought of Lois during his absence, and resolved 
when once more returned to her side he would make 
it his home. There had never been a warm, ardent 
demonstration of kindness on his part, but absence 
had cut the callous growth out of his heart and it was 
now filled with pleasanter feeling and higher aims as 
to home-life. • 

Though a man sinks to the lowest ebb in vice, he 
will not become indifferent to the charms and rest a 
happy home proposes. Richard Allen had long since 
cast off all remorse of conscience and steeped his soul 
in some of the blackest crimes that can soil the record 
of man. If we leave the visible prints of his life and 
take up that invisible thread along which passes the 
magnetic fluid that produces the inward man with his 
innumerable instincts, we will find but little good to 
record. ' » 

Though his absence had not exceeded seven or eight 
months, there were things w;hich he encountered that, 
to a great extent revolutionized his future aims, in- 
spiring him with serious and sentimental thoughts of 
his wife ; as he neared home he pictured the pleasant 
welcome he would receive. 

“Darling wife, have you been ill? You look so 
pale,” he said as he smoothed her forehead with his 
hand. 

“Yes I have, but I am quite well now,” she spoke 
half audibly as she liberated her hands from his. 

“Lois, do not be so apathetic. I will amply re- 
pay you in kindness for all I have forced you to suffer 
during my travels. Believe me I will love you as ten- 
derly as ever a wife was loved. My wealth is at your 
disposal ; seek your pleasure where you wish. I re- 
turned home to offer all I possess to you. Have you 
no welcome smile to give me?” he asked affection- 
ately. 

“I am glad you have come back ; but I — I — I’m 
not worthy to receive you,” she answered. 

If Lois had known to what extent she comprom- 
ised herself in even extending to Richard Alien the 


156 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

courtesy of welcome, her heart would have shrunk 
from even speaking to him again. This is one in- 
stance where ignorance made life more contemplative 
by bridging over the irregularities of the past. She 
had partly recovered from the surprise that came like 
a fearful thunderbolt, and with it all came the thought 
that she ought never to receive Richard Allen as her 
husbaiid again. 

Marriage was a divine institution appointed by 
heaven for the protection of society — involving the 
unity of hearts in a most sacred pledge. She did not 
love Mr. Allen ; they were foreign in nature and as 
antagonistic in their conception of life as it is possi- 
ble for extremes to be. Married to a man you do not 
love — whose nature is coarse and offensive — whose 
life and character are a shock to modesty — to honor 
such is a desecration of the marriage altar, a prostitu- 
tion of the heart, and the consummating act that will 
forever, irretrivably wreck two lives. 

But Lois was like a great many other people in 
the world who say their theory is good, but they 
themselves are destitute of the resolution necessary to 
the accomplishment of the purpose and aims. Her 
intuition outlined the narrow road of virtue and pru- 
dence ; but pride, regardles of reason, rebelled in its 
cold selfishness. She endeavored to suppress those 
unpleasant feelings which Mr. Allen’s presence sug- 
gested. No! she would never profane what God had 
ordained, or cast reflection upon it. She promised 
herself to discharge faithfully her duty towards her 
husband ; that to the world she would be a loving, 
cheerful, devoted wife. Over a sorrowful heart a hap- 
py smile would always part her lips. 

“Good-evening, Mr. Allen,” said Norman as he 
came brusquely into the room. 

“You are looking much improved, Wellington. 
How have you been ?” returned Mr. Allen as he arose 
and took Norman's hand. 

“O, we have had a delightful time. But, Mr. Al- 
len, this is quite a surprise to me. Why have you not 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 157 

written? We thought evidently you were dead,” 
responded Norman. 

“Ha ! ha ! ha !” laughed Allen. “Then you were 
going to make Rosedale your permanent home.” 

Norman blushed as his eyes involuntarily sought 
Lois. Her face was colorless and her eyes were fixed 
vacantly upon the floor. He hesitated before replying, 
thinking she would add a word. 

“It was mutually agreed that I should remain un- 
til you'r return without any specified time as to when 
that should be. While the interference of Providence 
was not mentioned that is always implied.” 

“An evasive answer, Mr. Wellington. What do 
you say, my pet?” smiled Allen as he turned his eyes 
in affectionate admiration upon his wife. 

“Mr. Wellington has been so very kind to us,” 
she said as a faint smile lighted up her face, feigning 
an appreciation of the amiable epithet, but inwardly 
abhorring it. 

“Then I made an excellent selection of a com- 
panion for Iris and you?” he asked without taking his 
eyes from her face. 

“I haven’t a complaint to make,” she returned 
with an undertone of impatience. 

“Where is Iris?” 

“She is in the garden and will be in presently.” 

Then Mr. Allen turned his conversation to Nor- 
man. 

“How have you managed affairs during my 
absence?” he questioned as he changed his seat. 

Lois had been longing for an excuse to leave the 
room in order to regain her self-possession. This 
change of conversation into the dry details of business 
admitted it. Promising to return in a few minutes 
with some letters, she left the library. On gaining 
the privacy of her own apartments she gave way to 
the most violent sobs of grief. The sudden arrival of 
her husband had not given a moment to prepare for 
his coming. After some moments she arose from the 
sofa, declaring that she would> s^eel her heart against 
the worst emergency ; — that her secrets and sorrows 


158 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

would, from that hour, be buried deep ir^ the sunshine 
and cheerful smiles of an outwardly happy life. With 
this resolve uppermost in her mind she returned to the 
library, bearing a small pack of sealed letters. 

Mr. Allen and Norman had amply discussed their 
private matters and were exchanging opinions on the 
recent events of the day. 

“What detained you so long?^ Ah! you have 
gained some color in your, face since you left. It 
seems to be real, — that is as contradistinguished from 
the bloom of youth,” Mr. Allen jokingly remarked as 
he held his hand for the letters. 

“It is the real bloom and it takes time to procure 
it,” she smiled as her soft eyes fell upon Norman’s 
meditative face. Her heart sickened with almost 
deadly fear as she thought of their relationship. The 
chief thought in her mind was, “Will he quit lovmg 
me? He knows I have a husband whom duty binds 
me to own and accept. He has always known it ; but 
until now its importance and greatness, as he sees 
him at my side, has never been considered. This 
solemn fact has dawned upon him with a suddenness 
and power that startles his whole nature into serious 
meditation. He is convinced by the ever blazing 
torch of inherent right that this happy dream of love 
must end. “She is married,’* his words are. “I have 
sinned in entering into her home and destroying the 
angel of peace and conjugal biiss. The Powers that 
be restore them to' her and let me go away. This 
world is embellished with beautiful faces whom I may 
love with pride and wed with honor.” 

These were very narrow and selfish conjectures 
set forth by Lois. There was nothing to keep Nor- 
man at Rosedale except her ; but that was enough, — 
she was the world to him. In her were centered all 
the endearing links of life — the fondest hopes, and the 
limpid springs of pleasure. It was true that he could 
have led some noble girl to the altar, but he could not 
have loved her and marriage without love is a hollow 
aim at happiness. But if he had decided that his 
presence at Rosedale had become a source of aggra- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 1 59 

vation and displeasure, he would not have imposed 
himself upon her one day longer. 

Let us for a moment consider Lois and Norrnan’s 

position; — she unmarried and he a husband ; and 

see what a man may anticipate who throws his whole 
life into his love and intrusts it to the care of a wo- 
man. O, woman ! 

“Thou art fickle as the sea, thou art wandering as the wind, 

And the restless ever mounting flames is not more hard to 
bind,” 

say Bryant. Another versed in human nature says : 

“The man who sets his heart upon a woman 
Is a chameleon and doth feed on air; 

From air he takes his colour’s — holds his life— 

Changes with every wind, — grows lean or fat, 

Rosy with hope or green with jealousy. 

Or pallid with despair — just a^ the gale 
Varies from North to South — from heat to cold ! 

Oh! Woman! Woman ! thou shouldst have few sins 
Of thine own to answ.er for ! Thou art the author 
Of such a book of follies in man, 

That it would need the tears of all the angels 
To blot the record out ! 

It never occurred to Lois Allen that the time 
would ever come when she would get tired of the bur- 
den she had involuntarily taken into her heart ; her 
only trepidation was that Norman would find another 
face that he admired more than hers and abruptly end 
their association. That sweet affection which she 
gave to Norman was the strongest love of her heart. 
She could never love another man as she loved him. 
But under adverse circumstances even this love, pledged 
to be so faithful, was destined to relax its influence 
upon her actions and thereby make him wretched. In 
doing this she but repeated the history and acted the 
nature of nine-tenths of her sex. She possessed that 
callous disposition of a powerful elastic will which 
was easily moved by a touch of pathos, and would as 
suddenly bound back to its regular pose of imperious, 
calculating pride. 

Her love, like a paralytic stroke, would come 
sweeping everything before it and as suddenly relax 


l6o IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE > 

its hold regardless of the pain it might cost others. 
Again it would gradually subside until her heart would 
contract into its cold limits of hauteur and selfishness. 
There were times in her life when she most highly re- 
garded the happiness of Norman, times when she would 
have undergone painful self-immolation for his favor 
and esteem, and times when her whole prayer was to 
make him happier. Not that she ever ceased to love 
him, for she was always interested in him, but the 
ruling principle of her life was to make her own sur- 
roundings pleasant — subverting her love into a sec- 
ondary consideration. With such a heart she loved 
Norman ; that she loved him truly and earnestly the 
future will evince. 

“Lois,” exclaimed Mr. Allen as he came to a let- 
ter with a broken seal, “What does this mean.?” 

“Really, Mr. Allen, I opened the letter through a 
mistake, and when I found it was yours I did not 
read it,” she responded a little annoyed that he would 
publicly reprimand her. 

As Mr. Allen’s eyes followed the closely written 
words of the mysterious missive his face reddened 
with anger and then paled to an ashen hue in morbid 
fear. His sins fell upon him like a leaden weight, 
stunning the fibrous sense of conscience into the most 
moi;Ufying confusion. 

iris entered the room wonder-struck at his arri- 
val. He did not observe her until she was at his side, 
expressing her congratulations upon his safe return. 
He turned and thanked her with an impatient twitch 
of his rugged and rather hollow features. 

Mortified at the strange manner with which he 
greeted her, she sat down in speechless surprise. 

Norman awakened to a live sense of curiosity, 
without the remotest conjecture as to the true nature 
of the trouble, involuntarily asked. 

“Something gone wrong, Mr. Allen?” 

The addressed raising his eyes in blank perplexity 
until he reproduced the wasting sound on the tym- 
panum to make sure he had not misunderstood Nor- 
man, replied with a languid significance: 


ts MARRIAGE A FAILURE? l6l 

“A little crash in business circles only.” 

“Will your loss be serious?” continued Norman. 

“Only a few thousand,” he replied, evidently 
aiming to terminate investigation. 

Lois, who had been an intereste(> witness, remem- 
bered with distinct clearness the name “Anna Mar- 
tin,” subscribed to the letter he was reading. Why a 
lady would be notifying him of a business transac- 
tion, which appeared to be of so much consequence, 
was a mystery to her. In spite of a resolution to be- 
lieve otherwise, there was a strong disposition to 
question the truth of the statement her husband had 
made. 

Mr. Allen gradually recovered his composure and 
renewed the conversation with unusual interest and 
attentiveness. 

Soon Iris and Norman withdrew from the library, 
leaving wife and husband alone. As Norman passed 
through the wide open door Lois’ and his eyes met in 
a passionate, soul-speaking look. Volumes would not 
express the comfort that look spoke to each other. 
The wordless dialect was unobserved by Mr. Allen, 
and as yet no suspicion of the real state of affairs 
dawned upon him. 

“We will have a delightful view of the sunset,” 
said Iris as she posed her shapely arms to part the 
heavy curtains which had been brought from Eastern 
looms. 

“The western balcony is your favorite resort — 
made so in memory of those delightful moments^of 
the past — Humphrey; you remember. ” 

“Mr. Wellington, we will not call up the past 
this evening,” she interrupted with a sigh of pain, as 
she appropriated the unoccupied seat at his side. 

Lois, hearing the clear, silvery voice and being 
impressed with its sad modulation, inclined her head 
to a position from where she could see them through 
the open door. She thought she traced the shadow of 
disappointment in Iris’ face as its expressions were 
intensified by the subduing effect of sunset. Her 


is MAltRiAGE A FAILURE? 


l6i 

interest deepened as she heard her sister^s dexible 
voice repeating: 

“Awake wordless song more than words— 

A song whose meaning words cannot convey. 

Like angels’ *mices at the death of day ^ 

O’er time forever fled, a requiem singing. 

Heard of the soul aloue, it dies away 
In ecstacy of echoes sweetly ringing, 

And now the sun is sunken and its light 
Pales on the western wave, and on tlie world. 

The halls of heaven that gleamed with red and goKl 
Him clouds, like sorrow rise aud shut from sight. 

While dark, dark descending on the eartli, night 
Broods o’er the face of nature gray and cold.” 

Lois felt uneasy ; she could see that Norman’s 
• face was aglow with interest, as Iris eloquently dis- 
coursed upon the beauty and grandeur of the sunset,, 
illustrating by it the last scenes of life. 

“But why,” she asked herself, “should they not 
love each other? Iris possesses all the personal* 
charms that I do ; she is not married. What cause is 
there to prevent them loving each other? I might 
have known they would.” 

Raymond Humphre}ds name broke in upon her 
meditation. Those passionate brown eyes, full of 
love’s burning hrs, could not be forgotten in a mo- 
ment or treated without deep consideration. If she 
had revealed her folly. Iris would have been his be- 
trothed now. She knew that her sister could not 
have resisted his earnest appeals. As it was she 
would lose Norman’s affection as a punishment for her 
sin. Such was the sophistry and fantasy of a jealous 
ancl love-diseased heart. 

Although it had only been thirty minutes since 
Norman had opened the window of his heart that she 
might read how much he loved her, this was forgotten 
and she was making herself wretched over nothing, a 
mere fancy. It is significantly strange, that a woman 
in love will not even trust her own sister; something 
so predominantly selfish in her nature that she will 
not honor the man she loves with the full confidence 
of her lieart, yet she will not neglect the opportunity 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


163 


to enjoy the boundless confidence of his untiring, un- 
yielding and endless affection. 

“Lois,” said Mr. Allen as he put his arms around 
her, “what are you so interested in?” 

“I was just listening to Iris quote some poetry 
which I admire,” she answered with an aching fear 
that Norman would look up and see her in Mr. Al- 
len’s arms. 

“Lois, darling, I have come home to make you 
happy. Only tell me I have the encouragement of 
your unbounded love,” he said with impetuous en- 
treaty.^ 

“Yes, you have it all,” she whispered in breath- 
less dread, her eyes upon Norman’s face. 

“Have you been very happy since I have been 
away?” he asked as his heart convulsed with terror. 

“Yes,” she answered; 

“Lois,” he began, “I fear I have begun too late to 
teach you how to love me. My heart yearns for the 
undivided love, the profound confidence and the 
highest admiration of yours. I had to go away from 
you to learn the state of my heart. When I was far 
away, travel-worn, yearning for the loving tenderness 
of a wife, my mind would always come back home to 
my beautiful Lois. Tell me you will henceforth chain 
me at your side with tender ties of kindness and de- 
votion. I love you firmly, truly, devotedly.” 

“Yes, I believe it, ]\Ir. Allen, but please don’t 
tell me any more about it this evening. I am not 
worthy of such love from you,” she said impatiently 
as she endeavored to control herself. 

“Very well — as my love pleases,” he said caress- 
ingly. 

They left the library for a stroll in the grounds. 

“What do you think of the ghost the servants 
have seen in the garden inquired Iris of Mr. Well- 
ington. 

“‘Well, I have no right ’lo dispute that they have 
seeh^ something which- they think is a teal ghost,” re- 
plied' Norman With sttong* assurance. 


164 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

“Are you well enough informed in ghostology to 
know one if you should see it?” she asked pertly. 

“I am well enough informed to know there are 
no real ghosts,” he declared as he ran his hand through 
his hair. 

“If there are no real ghosts, and there is someone 
playing the ghost here, we ought to make some ar- 
rangement to find out the duplicity,” she said zeal- 
ously, her eyes dilating with interest. 

‘I have watched for it two nights with the de- 
termination to know more or less ” 

“And did you see nothing of it?” 

“No ; it did not make its appearance,” he said 
with a shrug of the shoulders. 

“Then I guess it is a hoax,” she smiled, though a 
disappointed look was in her eyes. 

“It is possible,” he said, “that there has been some 
one about on a mysterious errand.” 

“Will you not continue your watch?” she asked 
with less animation. 

“To-morrow night,” he whispered as his mind 
drifted away from the subject. 

“Here come Mr. Allen and Lois,” observed Iris 
with a smile. 

“You are having a delightful evening,” remarked 
Mr. Allen as he turned to Norman. 

“Very pleasant indeed,” he responded as he 
looked at Lois to see if she had been enjoying herself. 

“Rosedale has acted like a charm upon your 
health. You have shed that forlorn, hopeless look 
you had when I left,” Mr. Allen said as he gave Iris 
an intimating glance. 

If Richard Allen had known the real cause of 
Norman’s happiness he would have dismissed his pres- 
ence from Rosedale without mercy or warning. His 
heart would have rankled with that jealousy which 
meant cold, premeditated murder. Heliad never loved 
his wife until now. The foul, cruel heart he was try- 
ing to impose upon his wife, in the sacred name of 
love, was' unworthy the respect of any woman. The 
real merit and virtue of true manhood was lost in the 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


165 

extreme selfishness of his perverted, abused and dese- 
crated life. How any woman of Lois Allen’s refine- 
ment, innate culture and inborn pride of character, 
with her pre-eminent admiration of the beautiful, 
ever compromised those pure instincts of womanly 
loveliness in a marriage with a man whose every aim 
was a fatal mistake, whose entire life was a succession 
of theft and robberies, is a question that admits of too 
much latitude for discussion. She possessed those 
finer intuitions for delineating character which can 
read the true worth of a face with unfailing success ; 
but a person may have but little ‘confidence, or none, 
in the character of an individual without having the 
remotest idea of what his life has been. 

Iris smiled as she understood the implication of 
Mr. Allen’s remark. 

Lois blushed and was silent ; but in her heart 
she was glad she had known Norman and was able to 
make him happy. 

“Do not estimate Rosedale too highly for its 
wholesome air and otherwise medicinal properties, un- 
til you have fairly considered how much your conge- 
nial family have contributed to my health,” said Nor- 
man, advisedly. 

Iris felt that if he had said “your wife” the state- 
ment would have been true. 

Lois looked confused and censured Norman in 
her mind. 

Mr. Allen replied good humoredly: 

“I suspected as much.” 

“Sister and I feel very much complimented,” 
said Iris, and her silvery laugh rang out on the still 
night air with wonderful sweetness. 

Lois drew a sigh of weariness. An hour passed 
and they all willingly sought their separate apart- 
ments, but not to rest. 

Mr. Allen was fatigued by travel ; long, restless 
nights in strange cities, bitter memories of thq past, 
saddened by constant fear and presentiments of a 
hopeless future had almost exhausted him ; but there 
was no rest from his toils. He was startled, affrighted 


l66 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

and perplexed as much as he had ever been. ‘‘Would 
she track him down as she had threatened?” he in- 
quired of himself. “God forbid!” he exclaimed in 
demoniac dread. “I have never known a moment’s 
experience so horrible, so annoying as this. O, Lois ! 
this will wreck our happiness. Why did 1 not kill 
her ere I left New Orleans? This is the damnable 
consequence of not doing work well. It is not too 
late yet. Let her show her stealthy steps in these 
grounds — her blood shall pay the penalty and 1 will 
yet be a happy man.” 

He hissed these words in dangerous fury over his 
thick, coarse lips. If he had listened he could have 
heard the rustle of skirts as they swept by his door: 

Swiftly Lois fled along the dark hall in her slip- 
perless feet; as she stealthily descended the stairs the 
dark figure of a man appeared in the open door ; 
recognizing him, she quickly threw herself into his 
arms. He pressed her warmly, tenderly to his bosom 
as he drew her out on the gallery and whispered : 

“Let us go.” 

“No, darling, not out of the house. I am afraid. 
See how I tremble,” she pleaded, her heart in anxiety 
between passion and fear. 

“Some one will hear us,” he insisted. 

“We will whisper so low no ears but ours -can 
hear. What did you have to tell me to-night? Tell 
me quick.” 

“I have so much — it is all my heart. I want to 
tell you, it is all yours and, ” 

“Oh ! it is so sweet to hear you say so. It is 
music, my soul will never tire of,” she interrupted, as 
she pressed his cheek to hers with a soft, white hand. 

“O ! Lois, those words fall from your lips as 
gently as the dews from heaven ; honey to the taste 
is not sweeter than they are to the palate of my soul.” 

“Surely God made them both. My words are not 
my own, but heaven-kissed thoughts that none can 
know but you,” she said as she pressed a soft, pas- 
sionate; lingering kiss to his eager lips. : • 

“Sweet breath of heaven, thdt fans my cheeks 


Is marriage a failure? 


167 



SVE Wll.r. WHISPER so LOW NO EARS BUT OURS CAN 


HEAR 




IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


1 68 

to-night. Romeo and Juliet loved not like we. 
Heaven and earth are silent, and the glaring sun has 
mellowed into the light from the moon and the beau- 
tiful stars to adore our love. My heart can kiss no 
heart but yours. 

‘Never man before 

More blest; nor like this kiss hath been another,’ 

I would rather die than give you up. These cheeks 
are roses with the dew upon them ; these lips a chalice 
of delicious nectar full and overflowing for me. 
Sweet love, is it not so?” he whispered. 

The icy ligaments — the only barrier between 
self-respect and disgrace — were melting under the 
rising warmth of sensual fire. She submissively 
yielded all to the love that was her tyrant, as she an- 
swered with passionate energy and softness : 

“Yes; this and more. I am all yours, Norman. 
There is nothing in heaven so sweet as love, then why 
.could there be on earth. I memorized a poem when 
a child — to-night do I learn its meanings. Listen, my 
Romeo : 

‘ ’Tis sweet to liear 

At midnight on the blue and moonlight deep 
The song and oar of Adrian’s gondolier. 

By distance mellowed o’er the waters sweep. 

’Tis sweet to see the evening star appear; 

’Tis sweet to listen at the night wind creep 
From leaf to leaf; ’tis sweet to view on high 
The rainbow, based on ocean, span the sky. 

’Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog’s honest bark 
Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home; 

’Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark 
Our coming and look brighter when we come; 

’Tis sweet to be awakened by th*e lark. 

Or lulled by falling waters; sweet the hum 
Of bees, the voice of girls, the song of birds, 

A lisp of children, and their earliest words. 

But sweeter still than this, than these, than all. 

Is first and passionate love— it stands alone.’ 

“You are my first and only love — it. must be 
sweeter still.” 

Until now they were on the gallery with no light 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 169 

around them except Cynthia’s curtained rays as they 
dimly shone through the clinging vines. At his re- 
quest they went half way down the stone steps, leav- 
ing the door ajar. It was a calm, tranquil night ; the 
air richly laden with delicious fragrance from flowers, 
vines and trees. The stars brightened and paled in 
the deep blue firmament, casting their soft shadows 
around the lone lovers. The moon poured her reful- 
gent gleams down through the stately beeches that 
stood like two great sentinels on either side the pave- 
ment ; her silver beams lent solitude a charm which 
lovers love so well. 

“Round them poured a lambent light; 

Light that seemed but j ust to show 
Breasts that beat and cheeks that glow.” 

Lois never looked more queenly or more radi- 
antly beautiful than now, as the brightness of her 
pearly cheeks shamed the silvery sheen of the moon, 
and her love-lit eyes paled the stars to a sickly hue. 
The hand in which she held Norman’s, — 

“In whose comparison all whites are ink 
Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure 
The cygnet’s down is harsh.” 

She was a vision of rich and transcendent beauty 
out upon the still bosom of night, closely clasped to 
her Apollo, with cheek touching his that he might 
breathe kisses back to hers. 

Thus happy in these stolen moments the time 
passed swiftly, until she, ever fearful of the suspended 
bolt, .started, exclaiming: 

“Hush, Norman ; I hear a sound.” 

They both listened in breathless silence. 

“It is Mr. Allen coming down stairs, Mr. Well- 
ington. What will I do? If he finds we have been 
together — O, you must go away. Conceal yourself 
under the steps. I will go ; good-bye,” she whispered, 
as she swiftly, noiselessly re-entered the half-open 
door. 

This is the second time that the opportune inter- 


lyO IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

vention of circumstances reversed the tide of conse- 
quence; but it is here we see men and women in 
their most contemptible role. The spotless robe of 
unsullied honor that seals every marriage vow with 
sanctity, carelessly slips from the ivory shoulders and 
bosom of nuptial purity to trail in the dust and flesh 
pools of licentiousness. The respect of the church, 
the chastity of society and the safeguard to property 
all depend uporw the purity of our homes. Human 
love, ever so lofty and pure, has the taint of human 
nature in it. 


CHAPTER Xiy. 

EDMOND LORAINE AND RAYMOND HUMPHREY ON A 
JOURNEY. 

“Muse not that 1 thus suddenly proceed; 

For what 1 will, I will, aud there’s an end.”- 

— Shakespeare. 

“He is not dead!” exclaimed Raymond Hum- 
phrey. “Where can I get some water? It is not 
necessary that this man should die.” 

Without waiting a reply from Mr. Loraine, he 
stepped quickly to a water bucket which his search- 
ing eyes now discovered in a far corner of the room ; 
finding it not empty he returned hastily with a vessel 
of water. Turning Fred on his back that he might 
bathe his face, he discovered the wound would neces- 
sarily prove fatal. After giving it the best attention 
available, he unrolled a bundle of rugs that were in 
the room and prepared a bed, on which he tenderly 
placed the still breathing man. 

FTed Russell was not yet dead, but the wound 
was a fatal one. Opening his eyes he saw an honest, 
handsome face bending over him. 

“Who are you?” he faintly questioned. 

“I am a stranger who would be your benefactor. 
I found you a few minutes ago lying insensible on the 
floor, and 1 am now trying to assist you,” replied 
Raymond in a tone of sympathy. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


I7I 

“And what’s become of Uncle Edmond?” he 
questioned as he tried to turn his head toward the bed. 

Mr. Loraine answered: 

“I am unharmed, Fred. The dastard scoundrel 
became so affrighted when he shot you that he forgot 
me.” 

“An equestrian passed me at a rapid speed only 
a short time before I arrived here. I was impressed 
with the. strangeness of his manner and hastened to 
the house to see if something was not wrong,” inter- 
posed Raymond with an effort to conciliate ^he old 
gentleman. 

Fred raised his hands as hc said : 

“I am going to die. I have a confession to make 
before I go away. This wound in my head will s6lon 
kill me. But tell me who you are, where you live, 
and if you can write?” 

“I am a vagrant now. A lawyer by profession. 
My name is Raymond Humphrey. I am from Nash- 
ville, Tenn., which I left only a short time ago.” A 
sad, cheerless expression came over his face as he 
thought of what drove him away from home — out 
into the world — a wretched, miserable man. 

Mr. Loraine, who had been studying the stran- 
ger’s fqce, addressing Fred, said: 

“You may trust him. He will nobly execute any 
charge you may leave with him.” 

“I believe it. I cannot defer what I have to say. 
My time is drawing near. Mr. Humphrey, your, ap- 
pearance is at a most opportune time. You have an 
iionest face and I am going to. trust you with a secret 
that will open up the darkest and most daring crime 
ever perpetrated. ILit. before I do so, promise me that 
you will believe what I say, and tliat you will faith- 
fully investigate what I tell you until justice is satis- 
ried. You are a lawyer. I have the money to amply 
supply your wants. Carry out my request and a little 
bag of gold, which you will find in that old leathern 
trunk, is all yours ; take it and spare it not. You see 
that old man ; he lias been cruelly, barbarously treated. 


172 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

Promise me that you will care for him the remainder 
of his days.” 

“You may trust me,” Raymond said as he thought 
of life with its sad dreariness. 

“Have you any paper upon which you can write 
my confession ?” 

“Yes,” answered Raymond as he opened a small 
valise and took from it a few sheets of legal paper, a 
bottle of ink and a gold pen. “I am ready now,” he 
added as he seated himself on the floor by the side of 
the suffering, expiring man. 

Mr. Loraine raised himself to a sitting posture 
for the first time since he had been imprisoned at 
Ancil Ranch. As his mind shed its blindness, his 
body received new strength. The time had come 
when mental endurance surpassed all expectation, 
bursting into the clear sunshine of memory, leaving 
behind it the debris of a hopeless past. The time had 
come when the hellish plot, which had been the pro- 
lific source of untold cruelty and misery, would burst 
its cabalistic bonds. It was the supreme moment of 
his life ; he could no longer remain a prisoner in bed; 
he must learn how he had been wronged ; his rage, 
his bitter invectives against Ike, his hope of hearing 
the truth from Fred had supplied his energies with 
new vigor and gave him supernatural strength to lift 
himself up to hear every word which the repentant 
man had to say. 

It was just sunset when Fred Russell signed his 
name to the confession in the presence of a number 
of witnesses. 

He called Mr. Loraine : 

“Uncle Edmond, I am going away now to meet 
the great Judge of mankind, who will deal with me 
justly. I did not meet my fate too soon. I am 
not worthy to live ; can you forgive me? Tell me be- 
fore I pass over the cold Jordan — my last moments 
will be pleasanter to know I have your forgiveness.” 

“Fred,” responded the old man, “I do not know 
in what way you have sinned against me; but, be it 
what it may, I am more than convinced by your de- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? I73 

votion to me and your deep repentance that your 
earthly sufferings and punishment have been com- 
plete.” 

“O ! I am dying,” groaned the sufferer; “speak 
quick, or I will go away without it.” 

“You are forgiven, Fred,” he said softly. 

A grateful smile passed over Fred’s face and he 
was no more of this world. 

Courted death came to him — as it does to every 
one — in an hour and way in which he had not ex- 
pected ; it found him as well prepared to meet his 
God as he would ever have been. For twenty long, 
weary years he had prayed God earnestly to blot out 
the past. While he never forgot the black, hellish 
infamy of his own acts, its horrors were softened by 
the consciousness of having drunk the bitter dregs of 
self-reproach. 

When a good man comes to die he regrets that 
he did not live a more consistent life ; when a wicked, 
profane man dies it is with regret that he neglected 
the soul’s immortal interest ; so, at best, death always 
brings a sad train of regret, lamentation and sorrow. 

Who ever commits an ignominious crime can 
never flee from it. He may go behind the cross of 
Christ, but despite all his resolutions and promises, 
its memorable traces are woven into the conscience 
with such distinctness that time will never fade it ; 
indeed, he cannot flee from what is a part of himself. 

When the last breath of life gave up its hold on 
the body of Fred Russell, Mr. Humphrey arose from 
his seat and addressing Mr. Loraine said : 

“From this confession I presume your name is 
Edmond Loraine?” 

“Yes, sir ; that is my name.” 

“Very well then ; if I carry out the request of 
the dead, you and I will necessarily be associated in 
much of your future.” 

“You have no idea of rescinding your part of the 
contract,” exclaimed Mr. Loraine. 

“No, sir ; my promise was given extempore, but 
come what will, I will keep it.” 


174 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


“You have an honest face, and I am willing to 
trust you.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Loraine ; I appreciate the con- 
fidence of gray hairs, and as our acquaintance ripens 
will endeavor to strengthen your conclusion,” replied 
Raymond with an air of deference. 

The next morning a rough wooden cofiin was 
brought to Ancil Ranch; a few hours afterwards it 
was conveyed to a small grave-yard a mile west, 
where it was left as the las.t resting place of Fred 
Russell. Raymond Humphrey was the only mourner 
that followed his body to the grave. An army of 
cow-boys were in attendance at the burial, but the 
ghastly scene of death was no new thing to them ; 
they met with it at most every turn of life. 

Fred Russell’s early association was with a ten- 
der mother and sister; but his last surroundings on 
earth were sad and sorrowful. No paternal sympathy 
to lessen the pain of his last moments,; no pitying 
love to lighten the grief of his lieart. Over his grave 
no tear fell ; no flower to brighten with loving 
thoughts the freshly turned sod. His grave, as his 
last days, was separated from loved ones. 

“Mr. Loraine,” said Raymond the next morning 
after Fred’s interment, “do you tliink you will soon 
be able for a trip East?” 

“I have been in this, room for about twenty years, 
the boys say Would it not seem impossible that 1 
should ever recuperate?” 

“Yet you are able to be on your feet to-day, a 
thing which has not occurred with you in twenty’^ 
years,” replied Mr. Humphrey earnestly. 

“It is true, but I can’t comprehend it. My mind 
is strong and vigorous again. It is more like a mira- 
cle than anything I ever knew.” 

“Let us not try to comprehend ; so that tlie facts 
are realized ought to be sufficient for our pacification,” 
returned Raymond with a smile that indicated his 
firmness. 

“When do you want to go, Mr. Humphrey?” 

“To-morrow, if our arrangements can be com- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


175 

pletecl. We haven’t time to tarry amid these wild 
scenes.” 

“Where in tlie East do you propose going?” 
asked Mr. Lorain e. 

“I think it would be best to go immediately to 
Louisville, Ky., where, in the event your health should 
fail, desirable attention could be had.” 

“You are very considerate, Mr. Humphrey, and 
1 feel grateful to you because you promised Fred to 
take care of me,” he said a little disappointed at not 
fully comprehending the turn affairs were taking. 

“(.^uite true, sir ; but you know— that is if you 
understood the whole of his confession — that it vested 
me with other important responsibilities ; however, I 
will not desert you.. The greatest kindness I can doj 
is to hunt down 3 ’our enemy, who so ingeniously and 
dastardly robbed your life of its rights.” 

“1 remember flistinctly now. Fred whispered so 
low at times that his words were not audible at my 
distance. I could die in peace now, if I knew that 
Ike Ancil would ever be made to answer to a guilty 
verdict in court. That villain who entered my home 
a charity child, a vagrant youth, proved to be my most 
insidious enemy. How wicked! how .ungrateful he 
was ! vShakespeare puts it : 

‘Ingratitude, thou marble hearted fiend, 

More hideous, when thou showest thee in a child 
Than the sea monster.’ 

“Humphrey, bring him to justice and you shall^ 
be amply rewarded. But tell me, have you any 
knowledge as to where the perfidious scoundrel hides 
during these long periods of absence? Didn’t Fred 
know anything about it?” 

“If he did he failed to tell me, and looking for a 
man whose features I have never seen and who may 
have a half dozen assumed names, I must confess 
furnishes but little hope of success. But let us not 
become despondent ere our task begins. We have 
some promising data upon which we may rear our 
structure of hope with some reliance. If we ever 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


176 

find him, it will be under some other name ; if we 
ever convict him it will be in consequence of his asso- 
ciations,” answered Raymond. 

‘ You speak rather enigmatically to me. Do you 
think there is any evidence procurable by us which 
would assure a verdict of ‘guilty’ were we fortunate 
enough to find him?” 

“Most assuredly, Mr. Loraine. We cannot con- 
vict, him upon this bare statement ; but should we find 
strong corroborating testimony, we will have an easy 
going matter of it. And unless we go to the place of 
Ancil’s depredation it will be impossible to ever ob- 
tain this character of evidence. The devil was not 
cunning enough in forty days’ trial to conceal his 
wickedness and treachery from the Savior ; nor can 
any of his followers of the Ancil type outrage justice 
and society without leaving somewhere a place for 
attack.” 

“Mr. Humphrey, I will go with you ; I will be 
strong enough to meet all demands. You inspire me 
with new strength, new courage and perseverance. 
If my helplessness becomes an incumbrance, 1 can 
rest while you institute a more vigorous search than 
you could with me. Why do you want to go to 
Louisville? That was not Ike’s former home.” 

“That is true ; but the very first link in the chain 
that will draw us on his track is at that place.” 

“What is it, Humphrey? I know you have some- 
thing tangible upon which to base your assertions, 
and pray do not keep me in suspense any longer.” 

“Then you did not hear what Fred said about the 
two little girls?” questioned Raymond. 

“No, I did not understand him. What was it?” 
gasped the old man. 

“Ike Ancil and Fred Russell placed them in the 
St. Anna’s Convent to be educated. — ” 

“O ! I see it all now. The sweet little children 
are not dead, as they would have me believe. I never 
did believe it !” exclaimed the old man, joyful tears 
streaming down his cheeks. 

“There cannot be a doubt but wharf: we will learn 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 177 

something of the mysterious character and life of our 
man through these girls if we can ever find them. 
With their immense wealth, which he obtained through 
this hideous transaction, at his disposal, he has never 
abandoned them. You may depend upon this, Mr. 
Loraine. Sin will as surely look after its own conse- 
quences as the mother will watch after her children. 
A man cannot wilfully do another an injury and 
escape the reprimand of a restless conscience.” 

“To morrow I leave this old cage, where I have 
been cooped so long, my heart light and cheerful with 
the expectation of being reunited with my family. 
Read me Fred’s confession. There may be something 
in it bearing upon the past which I can understand.” 

He unfolded the closely written manuscript and 
read it distinctly. Mr. Loraine listened attentively, 
his countenance changing from calmness into fiery 
anger. For the first time he had a thorough concep- 
tion of how he had been sinned against. His soul in 
all its pent up wrath gave way to an outburst dis- 
possessing him of the power to speak. When Ray- 
mond had completed the reading he sat silent and 
thoughtful for a minute ; soon his anger began to re- 
lax its tension, and he said quietly : 

“For a while we all certainly do see through a 
glass darkly; but the time will come when we shall 
know more. That time is with me now. I know 
more than I ever did. If I can only live to see those 
children and clasp them again in my arms, I will die 
in peace.” 

“Let us hope, Mr. Loraine, that all things will 
work good for you, and that whether you ever see 
your little nieces again, it will be for the best. When 
we have done all in our power, we have met. the re- 
quirements of our life and should be satisfied. You 
have borne more than your share of trouble ; but man 
becomes an object of trouble and appreciation through 
the inflexible law which governs the world and cir- 
cumstances. If any one is called upon to bear an 
unequal proportion of the burdens he should be pa- 
tient and cheerful. If a human life is ever thoroughly 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


178 

purged and purified it must be through a process that 
will eliminate all impurities; self-sacrifice is the only 
gateway. By natural law man is judged by the afflic- 
tion and sorrow he has borne.” 

“You like moral and mental philosophy, I ob- 
serve. A favorite study of mine in my youth,” said 
Mr. Loraine, his mind momentarily wandering from 
his troubles. 

“Had we not as well begin arranging for our 
trip?” asked Raymond, feeling it was necessary to de- 
vote his energies to marking out his future work. 

“We have no baggage — nothing about this cow- 
ranch we would want to take with us,” suggested 
Mr. Loraine. 

“What route do you think would be most practi- 
cal to the railroad?” asked Raymond for an excuse to 
state his conclusion upon the matter. 

“You forget, Mr. Humphrey, that although I 
have been in Texas for twenty years, your twenty 
days’ experience has given you a better idea of the 
geography of the country than I have.” 

“Allow me,” began Raymond, “to decide for us. 
We can start for Waco to-night, by stage, which is 
the most direct railroad route.” 

“That is your decision, is it, Humphrey?” sighed 
the old gentleman as he thought of the long, bitter 
past, with its train of sad memories. 

“Yes, sir; the boys tell me the stage will pass 
about ten o’clock. What amount of money have you 
for our use?” 

“There is some gold under the rugs which form 
my pillow that Fred placed there some time since, 
saying that if he should die at any time I would not 
be left penniless. He always said that he had a large 
sum of money in a little iron box which he kept in 
an old leathern trunk.” 

“Yes, he mentioned it to me, as you heard, but I 
have not yet examined it,” replied Raymond. 

“Let us not delay it longer.” 

At this suggestion Raymond proceeded to the 
treasured trunk. Opening it, he found the desig- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 179 

nated box ; attached to it was a label, saying it con 
tained so many U. S. bonds, National Bank notes and 
gold, all amounting to a considerable sum. As he 
placed the treasure in his valise he said. 

“Whatever might have been the man’s general 
character whom I have just buried, he had worthy 
traits. Think how few men you meet who are as 
faithful and loyal to their convictions as Fred Russell 
has proven himself. He was only an instrument in 
the hands of others. The wicked often shape the 
destiny and mould the reputation of the mediocre. He 
was an unfortunate man, but not a mean, cowardly 
one. By beautiful speech and intrigue he was in- 
flamed into an inordinate desire for money, under 
which passion he yielded to the will of another. Not 
long afterwards his folly and crimes became apparent 
and his heart not being steeped in sin to that extent 
when it loses the power of self-reproach, he yielded 
himself to a life of unrequited repentance.” 

“If in the rank catalogue of crime there is no sin 
too deep for the grace of God to pardon, then Fred 
Russell went away from this earth, though his sins 
were as scarlet, they were made as white as snow* 
Mr. Loraine, this is a strange aftair ; it is an inexpli- 
cable mystery that infatuates and interests me the 
more I reflect on it.” 

At this period a half dozen or more cow-boys 
lighted from their horses and came into the house. 
They spoke of the altercation between Ancil and 
Fred without evincing regret. They liked both, and 
had no particular preference. Fred was admired for 
his gentleness and the spirit of justice that character- 
ized all his dealings with man; Ike for his dare devil, 
reckless habits. Some of them prophesied that Ancil 
would never return to Texas again ; that his business 
hereafter would detain him in other quarters of the 
globe. They all were profuse in congratulating Mr. 
Loraine on his sudden recovery. One, who had long 
been a resident at Ancil Ranch, expressed his regrets 
for Fred having been taken to his grave at the par- 
ticular time when his troubles were just over. He 


8o 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


had watched him in his tender care of the aged in- 
valid and wondered how one could have the patience 
to sit so constantly in attendance upon the sick. 

Mr. Loraine interrupted them, saying : 

“I am going away from you to-night.” 

Some thought he referred to his death ; others 
decided he had one of his crazy fits. 

He continued : 

“I do not mean the appointed time of my death 
will come to-night ; I have thoroughly recovered from 
my mental aberration. I will leave for other parts of 
the Union to-night, and you may now look upon the 
old man as rational.” 

“How are you going?” they asked, curious to 
know more of this sudden change. 

“Mr. Humphrey accompanies me. We take the 
stage to-night at ten o’clock,” he answered, delighted 
to have the boys interested in what he was saying. 

They expressed themselves as being very sorry to 
part with him, but they hoped traveling would im- 
prove his health and he would be able at some future 
day to return. They all promised to be with him 
when the stage arrived to say ‘good-bye’ — a courtesy 
not common among cow-boys. 

“Mr. Loraine, are you ready?” called Raymond 
as he heard the rumbling of wheels. 

“Quite ready and impatient to be off,” he re- 
sponded, as he saw the huge outlines of an old stage 
wagon as it moved up the rocky hill under the force 
of four dashing grays of Spanish taint. 

The stage driver seized his pistol in alarm as he 
saw under the shadow of the trees the figures of men; 
but his suspicions were suddenly dispelled when a 
familiar voice called out ; 

“No raid to-night. Jack; just some passengers for 
Waco!” 

“Good-bye, Mr. Loraine ; you too, Humphrey. 
Luck and best wishes to you both,” shouted a dozen 
or more rougli voices as the stage rolled eastward. 


CHAPTER XV. 


HIS SURPRISE. 

‘‘He loured on her with dangerous eye-glance, 

Showing his nature in his countenance; 

His rolling eyes did never rest in place, 

But walked each where for fear of hid mischance, 

Holding a lattis still before his face. 

Through which he still did peep as forward he did pace.” 

— Spenser. 

Lois met her husband at the foot of the stairs. 

“What are you doing here at midnight.?” he ques- 
tioned, looking suspiciously around. 

“Have I not the right to demand of you the 
same.?” she responded meditatively. 

“I demand an unequivocal reply to my question,” 
he said bitterly. 

“Are all demands granted.? He who would force 
obedience to every whim is a tyrant indeed. I rebel 
against this despotism,” she declared firmly. 

“What will your puny argi obtain in rebellion 
against me ; I have yet to learn how to tolerate an 
insubordinate wife. Have you known me so long and 
now dare disobey my wishes.?” 

“I am a woman, and you are a man, but I em- 
phatically refuse to submit to your tyranny ; I can 
live independent of you and your sex. Stand aside 
and let me pass,” she commanded. 

“Not yet Lois Allen unless you walk over my 
dead body,” he said, controlling his feelings. 

“Do not call me by that 7tame again, or I will 
make my path from this prison whether it be over 
your dead or frightened body.” 

There was something in the desperate demeanor 
of his wife that quelled the fury of his increasing 
temper and caused him to reflect, as he said quietly : 

“Lois, what means this freak of yours.? Is it 
customary for wives of American men to leave their 
bed chambers at an hour when honest men sleep, and 
thus intrude upon the solitude of darkness?” 


i 82 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


“Even if I have failed to meet your idea of pru- 
dence, I am here. We women sometimes have an 
idea of our own. I fear you do not find in me the 
ideal wife of an ideal American.” 

“You mean that you are here in opposition to my 
will and you disclaim my right of interference. Who 
is with you?” he demanded peremptorily. 

“Did I say so?” 

“No ; b-u-t ” 

“Well, let us have no buts^ adjectives, adjuncts, 
adverbs, or adjustments, if you please,” she. inter- 
rupted, waving her little hands imperiously. “Since 
without investigation you choose to criminate me, 
please determine for yourself why I am here, and if 
you will, the recreant lover who dares meet your wife 
while her honest husband sleeps. Taste my lips, see 
if his honeyed kisses are not fresh there,” she con- 
cluded, stamping her feet with impatient recklessness. 

She attempted to pass him, but he planted him- 
self at the foot of the stairs in defiance. 

“I will,” she threatened, and turned to make her 
escape through the door ; anticipating her, he quickly 
threw himself against it, and locking it, placed' the 
key in his pocivet. 

“Now you are caged,” he said, as he returned to 
the only place where escape was possible. 

“Your prisoner, but not conquered,” she hissed. 

Several minutes intervened before the silence 
was broken. She slowly and meditatively walked up 
and down the hall in front of him with her hands 
clasped behind her, the magnificent form drawn up 
with a hauteur that would have awakened the envy 
of an empress, and her face flushed with the exciting 
vicissitudes of the night. Through the loosely fas- 
tented gown and the fine meshes of the lace bodice, 
the white, undulating bosom swayed in its superb 
voluptuousness. 

If Richard Allen had pushed his rights she would 
have rebelled and a tragedy or separation would have 
followed. It was one of those unfortunate moments 
in the history of woman when she will not listen to 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 183 

what her calmer judgment would advise. She looked 
at her husband. 

“What does this mean ?” he said fiercely, taking 
from an inside pocket a dangerous looking knife. “I 
will know or you shall pay the penalty,” he added. 

“Do you mean murder, or is this a little scheme 
of your own to intimidate me?” 

“I mean, you shall tell me of to-night’s work.” 

And she read it in his determined face. She at 
once realized the risk of a physical encounter with 
him. “Could she not excel him in mental strategy?” 
she reasoned, and her face grew calm with thought- 
fulness. Impulsively she lifted her exquisitely fash- 
ioned arm, so as to make the filmy, loose sleeve fall 
upon the shoulder, but not without a purpose. She 
let its soft whiteness touch his face, and quickly with- 
drew it, as she said softly ; “Would you take its 
blood?” He did not speak or relax his hold upon the 
deadly weapon. 

Her mind was made up. This was the time for 
that shrewd, bold, daring and double duplicity which 
only a woman can act in cases of emergency. She 
was a novice, but her woman’s intuition did not fail 
her. She began laying plans with the art of an ad- 
venturess. The knowledge of men acquired through 
y'ears of married life was invaluable to her, and she 
well knew the man’s weakness with whom she had 
to deal. She determined to pacify him and allay his 
suspicions. “He must not leave the house under an 
hour,” she decided. Studiously she posed herself, and 
looked at him with halt yielding passion from her 
large dark eyes. She stood erect and firm, the thin 
gown clinging closely over the well-moulded hips 
and the sensual fullness of her faultless limbs. Her 
attitude thrilled his wanton nature and his jealous 
anger ^feakened. She noted the change and felt he 
would soon be in her power. He was first to break 
the silence: 

“Lois, what has come over you.^ Before I went 
away you were an amiable wife.” 

“Then you should not have gone, since your ab- 


184 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

sence has caused our estrangement,” she interrupted. 

“Why is it so?” he asked, trying to catch the 
drift of her mind, but she was too adroit to commit 
herself. 

“If I have changed, does it not involve a cause, 
and who would say it is anything else than your ab- 
sence. I would rather be a maid and sleep within 
convent walls, than to be a neglected wife,” she said 
indifferently, as she feigned an attempt to pass him. 

“Not yet, my love. I would know more of you 
before we separate. But what do you mean?” 

She looked at him curiously from the corner of 
her languid eye, drawing her under lip between her 
teeth she bit it and bathed it with her tongue, leaving 
it as tempting as a luscious peach. 

“If you would knovv more of me I refer you to 
the stars, my secrets are with them. Selfish and auto- 
cratic man to expect his wife to sleep content between 
icy sheets while he has as many mistresses as nights 
he is absent.” 

“Eyes so distant as they 
Have no lips for speech, 

But from yours read I may 
What they fain would teach,” 

he quoted. 

A mischievous light came in her eyes as she re- 
torted : “What an unique verse. You memorize 
well; when did you take to poetry, or is it the hour 
and occasion?” 

“I caught the infection from you ; your words 
seem better set to verse than prose. Since fluency 
comes by practice — only genius by birth — I surmise 
you have been in the moonlight to compose a love 
stanza. You never complained of a mistress until 
now.” 

“Nor do modest wives wear pantalets oil their 
sleeves to remind husbands of their duty,” she replied 
bitterly. The shameful agony of a guilty conscience 
poured in upon her heart like melting lead ; but there 
was no contrition for what she had done; the awful 
and sickening dread only came with the thought of 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


185 

her secret being discovered. She decided to baffle 
her husband, and she began to play the game for 
victory only. She had never been an actress, but she 
Avas one now, and it meant conquest or death. She 
threw feeling, blended with pathos and passion, into 
her work, and she tried to stupefy the sense of pride 
and obstinacy with rapturous desire. Under the pre- 
tense of being warm she almost tore the sleeves from 
her arms, leaving her corsage bare. “Ha! ha! ha!” 
she laughed, half amused; “give me a rest,” and she 
reclined gracefully on the sofa, with her nude arms 
drawn tightly across the back of her head, the raven 
tresses forming an exquisit foil to the porcelain white- 
ness of her complexion. 

He never took his eyes from her ; he saw his wife 
in a new role. 

“Where have you been in your bare feet?” he 
said kindly, his blood warming under her influence. 

“My feet are not bare ; you must be blind not to 
have seen the crimson stockings you taught me to 
wear,” and she raised her white skirts to her knees to 
undeceive him. He came and stood near her, but 
she waved him back. Don’t come near me. We 
must understand each other. So long as this suspi- 
cion exists we must keep apart. You can imprison 
me and cut my heart out, but you can’t force me to 
live as your wife. I prefer death to living with the 
man who'^believes me unfaithful.” She raised herself 
to a full sitting posture, her white arms and shoulders 
glistened through the tresses of disheveled hair, and 
the sighing of her billowy bosom beneath the white 
crest of lace was perceptible, as she artfully drew the 
muslin wrapper closely around her until the dimpled 
knee cap and jeweled garter were in symmetrical out- 
line. His wanton eyes lowered on the faultless hands 
that lay languidly toying with each other in the un- 
dulating lap. 

“Lois,” he began, “you do not know me ; if it 
were so, you would fear, rather than dare me. If you 
provoke me I rnight harm you.” “No,” he continued, 
“you are the idol of my heart, and let us pot separ- 


1^6 IS MARRlAGfi: A RAlLURfi? 

ate. I have wronged you to-night, and I beg yoiir 
forgiveness.” 

She arose and walked away from him, but re- 
turned as suddenly. 

“Am I forgiven?” he asked, and he held out his 
arms beseechingly to her. 

“Be it as you say,” was the simple rejoinder; 

“Then kiss me with your old fondness.” 

She impulsively turned away. “Ah, this cannot 
be,” she thought. “I must act my part, and act it 
well. He will insist upon his rights; it is cruel ; it 
is even inhuman.” She retraced her steps and said 
firmly and passionately, “I will,” and she threw her- 
self into his arms, kissing him with thrilling softness 
and energy. 

Soon they ascended the stairs and entered the sec- 
ond balcony ; an hour later she could have been seen 
retiring to her own private apartments ; bui- not to 
rest. Her heart was sore with misery and self-re- 
proach. She promised herself to remain loyal to Nor- 
man if life was the forfeit ; honor, pride — all might go 
— but she would never, never, give him up. He was 
happiness, life, all on earth to her — dearer than the 
vanity of pride, dearer than the love of friends, dearer 
than the respect of society, dear as the hope of heaven ; 
no fear, no sorrow would ever come between them. 
As for her husband, she would never disgrace his 
name, and that was all he or duty could require. She 
fell upon her knees and prayed God to take her safely 
through thecares and sin that lay upon her heart. 

This jumble of religious impulse and the in- 
trigue of contraband flirtation are inimical to the so- 
cial instinct, but we see daily living illustrations of 
this discordant substratum in human nature. If men 
and women are reared under the wing of the church, 
the religious germ once planted, they may go far into 
the byroads of depravity, but when misfortune over- 
takes them, their hearts will look to God in prayerful 
entreaty. Every man, whether of Christian or pagan 
ancestry, has an ideal divinity. Let him hide behind 
German and French philosophy or the Ingersolism of 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


187 

the present century, and this ideal will follow him to 
the chamber of solitude, where he will open the win- 
dows of his soul and pour out to the Great Infinite a 
confession of human dependence. Such we believe 
to be man’s private history, whether Christian, pagan 
or Jew. 

Norman Wellington crept from his hiding place 
to his room, but not to sleep. His mind took on 
strange ideas of right and wrong. Each solution he 
gave to the pending troubles was shaped to gratify 
his own selfishness. Marriage, as it existed, was a 
miserable failure. The impetuous fire of new born 
love would never submit to the calculating dictates of 
reasbn ; duty — word of emptiness, mathematics and 
icy altitude — could never teach men and women hap- 
piness. The central sun of marriage was love^ all 
other factors, but distant satellites. He protested 
against this passion with *all the vehemence of his 
nature ; but when he found it was fate and destiny, 
he gave it up. He was impervious to the designing 
smiles and plaudits of society. Only Lois Allen met 
the unqualified expression of his heart, and held him 
a prisoner in her network of indefinable charms. 

“Love is certainly not,” he continued, “the same 
to all men ; if so, we are but a race of slaves. There 
is a placid love that is all grace and suavity ; there is 
a sickly, sentimental force that lasts but a day ; there 
is a sensual, grovelling love that corrupts the soul, 
and there is a love which elevates because it proceeds 
from the highest intellectual essence, purifies the soul 
because it is of heaven’s arrangement ; it is perma- 
nent because it embraces allot hope; it is sweeter 
than life because it is newer ; it is stronger than honor 
because it is more than honor ; it is stronger than 
pride because it does not respect it.” 

There was nothing to change the tide of his 
sweeping atinration. The sin and folly of this sharpe- 
ful proceeding never fmpressed him, so happy and 
contented was his mind always resting, Hi? attempt 


l88 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

to love Iris was idle mockery — evincing clearly he 
loved Lois for something more than external appear- 
ance ; that love was formulated on other basis and 
bound by other ligaments than the pearly white of 
the cheek, or the bright lustre of the eye; that man 
could love a soul, a disposition and other innate ex- 
cellencies, as well beneath the wrinkles and faded 
expressions of age and affliction as under the loveable 
freshness of youth. 

Nothing of moment occurred at Rosedale for 
several weeks. Lois and her husband remained the 
same. Inhere was but little demonstration of affec- 
tion on either side ; she was the same, calm, haughty 
woman of immovable pride. She had no love for 
him, but she resolved to heed the decree of the in- 
evitable. 

Iris never became entirely reconciled to her sis- 
ter ; however, she lost much of her former bitterness 
and endeavored to be her old self again. Nothing 
had been heard from Raymond Humphrey since his 
abrupt and mysterious departure. She watched the 
daily papers, anxious to learn something of him, but 
all was against her. His image was as fresh in her 
heart as it was the last moment she saw him. “She 
loved him now ; she did not hesitate to acknowledge 
it, and if he never returned to claim her as the object 
of his heart’s love” — then she would stop, as her mind 
went back to that unfortunate scene in the summer 
house. 

Norman and Lois were thrown together daily; a 
soul-speaking look, a significant act thrilled their 
nature. They studied and planned how they could 
be together ; what one could not understand the other 
would explain. She memorized beautiful, thrilling 
poems and recited them to him, adding to their music 
“the music of her voice.” Such perfect trust and con- 
fiding love made each a part of the other. 

/‘Does she ,thipk too n;iuch of him?” Mr. Allen 
would say, but he could never obtain evidence to con- 
firm. hi§. fancies. What treachery and perfidy can be 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


189 

hidden behind the leaves of a book is yet to f^e written. 

The ghost had become a frightful annoyance 
among the servants. Sambo had quit staying at home 
during the night. One heard nothing but ghost — 
ghost — among the whole negro fraternity. Norman 
had sat up a few nights, but he never saw it any more. 
Iris was much enthused upon the subject and often 
watched with the servants. Once she saw it and 
spoke to it, but it swiftly fled away. This was only 
one of the many incidents going on at Rosedale. 

“Where is Norman to-night?” asked Lois of Iris, 
thinking no ear but her sister’s near. 

Before Iris could reply Mr. Allen stepped from 
his place of concealment and tauntingly interposed : 

“You seem to be much interested in Wellington 
recently.” 

“Have I not a right to be?” she answered 
haughtily. 

“Perhaps,” interposed Iris, “she has a right to be, 
but not the liberty.” 

“I like less jeering and sarcasm when I speak to 
you,” he said bitterly. 

“Only qualify your addresses with less insinua- 
tion and they would have a gentler response,” she 
answered, quite at ease. 

“I am sure I do not know what claims Mr. Well- 
ington may have upon you,” he answered scofflngly. 

“Nor I don’t suppose you will ever know,”, she 
slowly remarked. 

“Hush ! both of you,” commanded Iris, as she 
saw Norman coming up the avenue of beeches. 

Lois was silent, but her heart was afire with in- 
dignation. 

Mr. Allen was getting fearfully jealous, and he 
resolved to give Norman a broad hint to leave Rose- 
dale. 

As he and Lois ascended the stairs to their apart- 
ment, he said : 

“I am going to order Wellington to leave my 
premises.”' 

“Mr. Allen,” she replied, “you will do me a great 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


190 

favor to keep such things to yourself; that is no con- 
cern of mine.” 

•‘You act well,” he laughed, and his heart filled 
with bitterness toward the whole world. 

“Good night, Mr. Allen,” she said, as they came 
opposite her apartment, and opening the door, she 
locked herself within. 

He stood without in a tumultuous rage. For a 
moment he did not move ; for a moment he resolved 
to enter the room by force and kih her ; but, changing 
his mood, he walked away muttering a bitter oath 
between his clenched teeth. Once in his room, he 
threw off his coat and gave himself up to a most ex- 
travagant use of invectives. No man or woman was 
too good for his abuse. He was gradually undergo- 
ing a change from bad to worse, the unexceptional 
doom of all degenerate and profligate men. The 
edict went forth in the morning of creation “as man 
lives, so must he die.” Let youth sow poisonous seeds, 
and old age will harvest misery. Our sins will come 
home to us when they are not expected. 

Assured her husband was in his room, Lois 
emerged from her private boudoir and went in search 
of Iris. She tapped gently at her door, but no voice 
responded. With easy movement she directed her 
steps down stairs ; arriving at the base of the long 
stairway she saw Norman and Iris through the open 
vestibule on the veranda. She instantly made her 
way to them. 

“You were unexpected; we thought you had 
donned your dishabille and were now sleeping,” 
Smiled Iris. 

“I hope I am not unwelcome,” replied Lois, as 
she took a seat near Norman. 

“Well, I must confess I could have gotten along 
just as well without you. It is not pleasant to have a 
secret half told,” said Iris playfully as she toyed with 
the costly gem which ornamented her milky neck. 

“I can retire rather than intrude myself “into the 
private conference of others,” rejoined Lois, her. feel- 
ing^ a little stung. 


is MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


I9I 

^‘Mrs. Alien, stay with us ; we appreciate your 
company. I am sure Miss Iris onl^ meant to tease 
you. We have been looking out for the ghost. The 
servants say they saw it enter the house about an hour 
ago ; but we were just debating whether their story 
was a plausible one or not,” interposed Norman, turn- 
ing the tide of conversation into a different channel. 

“I am getting serious over this midnight spectre. 
I shall imitate old Sambo soon if I am not relieved of 
suspense. There is something here — m these grounds 
- — thrilling, haunting and mysterious, that declines an 
interview. I have seen it, and I can’t be mistaken,” 
emphasized Iris. 

“What did you say, Mr. Wellington, about its 
•being in the house?” queried Lois, a tremor of fear in 
her voice. 

“I said the servants told Miss Jris that they saw 
it come into the house ; but you know it may all be 
imagination on their part,” he answered. 

“Suppose we institute a search at once,” sug- 
gested Iris. 

“Who of us is brave enough for the work?” 
added Lois. 

“Mr. Wellington is our only hero,” indicated Iris, 
with a laugh. 

Lois involuntarily caught Norman’s arm and 
protested that he should not go, that they would all 
sit up first. 

Norman thought either plan useless, as he did not 
credit the statement of its being in the house. 

“Oh, horrors !” exclaimed Lois, “what does it all 
mean? I will never forget those clear blue eyes, as 
they peered into my face as if I had been some dread- 
ful person against whom she was seeking revenge. 
She had a beautiful, charming face, perfect in its sym- 
metry and loveliness. And what puzzles and intimi- 
dates me most of all is, that she must have been more 
sinned against by some one at Rosedale, or why does 
she dog our steps wherever we move. I repeat, she 
most assuredly is plotting against some inmate, or 
supposed inmate, or why should she lurk about the 


1^2 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

premises so long. Her face is no ordinary one; there 
lies beneath its ghastly expression the shadow of a 
cruel wrong — not a trivial, slight provocation, but 
across her brow are written the effects of a deep, 
hideous sin. There has not been an hour since that 
memorable night on which I first saw ^her, but that 
her face in its sad, weird, unearthly solemnity has not 
been before me. I cannot hide myself from it. That 
haunting stare fastened itself upon memory with a 
vioe-like grip which will not shake loose.” 

“Hush, Lois! YcSu will make us believe there is 
a fugitive from Tartarus taking refuge ^t Rosedale,” 
interrupted Iris, half affrighted. 

Norman was silent ; his feelings were so cross 
with his reason that he dared not attempt to give an 
opinion. 

“There is something ill-fated in this to me. I 
cannot explain ; we often know a thing by intuition, 
though the impression we receive is so evanescent 
that we are at a loss to express what we know. Iris, 
you may not always laugh at me for this,” Lois said 
in a tone that carried with it the force of sincerity. 

Iris did not make any response. She thought 
there might be a little truth in the assertion, but she 
could not reconcile it with the conjectures of her own 
mind. 

Norman broke the silence by saying: 

“If we intend sleeping any to-night it is time we 
sought our rooms.” 

“I must see that the ghost has gone before I can 
sleep,” said Iris. 

“I am with you on that, sister,” admitted Lois. 

“Well, let us all go up stairs and discuss the mat- 
ter over,” advised Norman. 

Iris went in advance. As her foot pressed the 
last step, she was held in speechless awe as her eyes 
rested on a white figure that stood at the west end of 
the hall. Norman and Lois came up and stood at her 
side, their eyes following hers. 

“Call Mr. Allen ; he can help capture it,” gasped 
Lois, 


is MARRIAGE A EAILURE ? 

“Stand here until I come back,” whispered Nor- 
man. 

“No ! no ! please do not leave us !” they pleaded. 

“I will stand between you and all danger. I want 
to approach as near as possible without attracting at- 
tention, and then capture her.” 

“Let him go,” advised Iris. “You know Mr. 
Wellington can hold her so that she cannot hurt him.” 

Norman started ; with faces as pale as deatli they 
watched him in breathless dread. 

“Look ! she moves. Iris,” breathed Lois. 

“He will not catch her,” whispered Iris. 

“I am so frightened — she sees him. She is 
standing at Mr. Allen’s door.” 

“Wait, Lois,” interrupted Iris. “She Is no ghost 
or spirit from the dead — she is a real woman ; there 
is no danger unless we interfere. Evidently she has 
been quite wealthy. Mercy, she is gone ! Did you 
see her escape Mr. Wellington?” 

“I failed to get near enough to even make an 
effort to take her. She is as limp and agile as a cat,” 
he said as he returned to Lois and Iris. 

“Has she left the house?” asked Iris. 

“No; she cannot make her exit from the south 
end. You and Mrs. Allen go out on the north veran- 
da and watch for her escape through the front way, 
while I go and try to intercept her as she crosses the 
lower hall.” 

“Take precautions that she does not hurt you,” 
whispered Lois as Norman passed her. 

Noiselessly he strode down the stairs that led him 
to the north door, which he found locked; turning, he 
swiftly proceeded to the south end ; pausing at the 
bottom of the steps which led to the second story in 
the rear apartments, he looked around him in breath- 
less silence. Seeing no trace of the fleeing figure, he 
suddenly, deftly ascended the steep flight of steps. 
Once more upon the second floor, he listened for one 
dread moment for the rustle of skirts or the fall of a 
stealthy foot. 

“Pshaw ! I am on a cold scent,” he muttered as 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


194 

he continued his pursuit along the east wing. 

This part of the house was as night. Being well 
acquainted with every inch of the ground, he made 
his way to the extreme south-east corner. The moon 
poured her refulgent rays through the small latticed 
window that gave a magnificent view of the East. 
A feeling of dread crept over him as he passed 
through this uninhabited portion of the building. 
Again he listened for a light footstep or the quick 
beat of a frightened heart ; again he was disappointed, 
and again he resumed his search with dauntless cour- 
age, determining to find her if she did not make her 
escape by forsaking Rosedale. Slipping al )ng a nar- 
ro\v hall that led to the central apartments reserved 
for Rosedale guests, suddenly the sound of approach- 
ing steps was heard ; he paused to make sure he was 
not mistaken; darkness deepened into frightful black- 
ness, cold terror swept over him like an electric shock. 

A cold, icy hand was placed upon his a moment, 
but before he could recover his equanimity sufficiently 
to take hold of her she was gone ; so soft, so gentle 
was her step that no sound was made by her depart- 
ure. Thinking that she retreated when she became 
cognizant of his presence, he hastened to the end of 
the hall, where a dim light flickered, but there was no 
vestige of a person. Looking down the dimly lighted 
passage to the west end he saw Lois and Iris emerge 
from one of the servant’s rooms. He went to meet 
them. They were in a most confused state of terror. 
Seeing ISiorman, they advanced to meet him at an 
unconsciously rapid pace, exclaiming : 

‘‘Oh ! we have seen her. She was coming to- 
ward us, but seeing us, she went another way, like an 
ethereal something,” 

“Which way did she go?” questioned Norman, a 
little puzzled. 

“We were so frightened that our reason was 
thrown into a panic, and we could not tell which way 
she went,” they answered. 

“It is strange — very strange,” he repeated, a little 
more dismayed than he was willing to confess. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


195 

“You are scared, Mr. Wellington. Your face is 
deathly white and your eyes — Has she hurt you?” ex- 
claimed Lois as she clasped his hand in hers. 

“Sister, compose yourself ; we will all lose our 
reason if you don’t, and the frightful thing will take 
us off to the charnel house,” persuaded Iris as she no- 
ticed with what an effort Norman controlled his feel- 
ings. 

“I no longer censure Sambo for leaving this 
haunted place,” whispered Lois. 

“Is it a corpse that has burst the cerements of 
death and come forth to make the night more hideous? 
Mr. Wellington, do such spirits, when they come in 
the chains of death, ever dye their hands in the black- 
ness of crime, or is their mission to scare women and 
negroes into a stronger belief in ghosts?” asked Iris 
more composed as the trio entered the north veranda 
in search of seats. 

“I am as much nonplussed and bewildered over 
this matter as I ever was about anything in my life. 
In fact, this is my only experience with a ghost — if it 
be one, and for convenience we will designate it as 
one until we know more of its mysterious existence. 
Don’t trouble yourself about disembodied spirits re- 
turning to earth in a visible, tangible form ; such an 
instance has never been, and I think I am safe in say- 
ing never will be. While there is an inexplicable 
mystery connected with what we have seen to-night, 
it will be clearly understood some day, and your pres- 
ent fears and ideas will be exploded as a myth — the 
finale of all ghosts. Ghosts are nothing more than 
the phantasies of an ignorant and superstitious mind.’’ 

“But, Mr. Wellington,” interrupted Iris, “tell us 
what you think about this veritable phenomenon of 
to-night. No ingenious arrangement of sentences 
will convince us that our eyes and brains have been 
deceived ; no classification of different varieties of 
objects, which the mind may be impressed as hav- 
ing s§en under frightful conditions like to-night, will 
satisfy us that this is but an apparition. We have all 


96 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


seen something. Like Hamlet’s ghost, it comes of 
doubtful purpose and we question : 

“ ‘What may this mean ? 

That thou should return from the dead 
To make night hideous, and we fools of nature 
So horridly to shake our disposition, 

AVith thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls!’ ” 

“If this be a living person who has not been 
hearsed in death, how does she go and come, eluding 
so artfully detection? Does she feed upon air? When 
day dawns, spiritualize herself?” 

“You have heard it said,” responded Norman, 
“that anybody can ask questions, but it takes a wise 
man to answer them aright. As I make no profession 
to the latter, I know you will not expect a full an- 
swer. There is no question but this is a real woman 
clothed in human power, just as we are ; however, 
from her facial expression, I would say she is stimu- 
lated under the highest key which she means to sound 
in a terrible revenge. Those eyes of hers swim above 
the soul of crushed and outraged humanity. That 
face, as pallid as death, has been robbed of its color 
by the ruthless hand of distress. We may all safely 
come to one conclusion, that whatever may be this 
woman’s mission, she is no visitor from the pale city 
where slumber the trillions who have lived through 
the ceaseless ages of time.” 

“Where does she conceal herself during the day ?” 
whispered Lois. ' 

“I am inclined to believe she lives in this house,” 
answered Norman. “There are a number of vacant 
rooms in the east end, which a human eye does not 
scan once a year. I had never thought of this until 
to-night, while I was feeling my way along some of 
the dark passages. Miss Iris is yawning ; suppose we 
retire and make an effort to sleep. It must not be far 
from day-dawn.” 

“If the ghost returns, then what will we do?” 
reflected Lois. 

“Stay in your room and you will not know any- 
thing about it,” advised Norman. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? I97 

“If we accept Mr. Wellington’s opinion of its 
humanity we will not be in much jeopardy locked in 
our rooms,” said Iris as she led the way into the 
meagre lighted hall. 

Norman paused a moment and Lois twined her 
shapely arms around his neck, pressed a warm, loving 
kiss upon his lips, and whispered softly. 

“Good-night, my darling. God take care of your 
precious life for me.” And again, before separating, 
their inside lips met in a long, rapturous, fondling 
embrace. 

Norman repaired to his own department, a happy, 
hopeful man. For one moment he forgot all else ex- 
cept her ; if she would always be that kind and ten- 
der with him his happiness would be complete. 

Lois and Iris did not trust themselves to further 
conversation, but immediately retired, trying to be- 
lieve they were safe from any molestation. 

While the trio were closing their eyes in slumber 
a figure of stately height and proportion arose from 
its hiding nook (where it had watched with eager eyes 
the movements of Norman) and walked stealthily out 
into the wide hall. She paused for a moment under 
the flickering chandelier ; her eyes sought the floor in 
wistful meditation ; her brow contracted as if she had 
an unpleasant task before her. She raised her jew- 
elled arms between her face and the light as her eyes 
slowly, but gradually, sought the high, frescoed ceil- 
ing; but no word escaped her bloodless lips. She 
sank gracefully upon her knees, as if paying her re- 
grets in a court of sorrows ; turning her eyes to the 
right, she met the mocking smile of Momus as his 
large eyes seemed to dilate with satisfaction. Turn- 
ing her face to the left Nemesis frowned upon her — 
her pale, drawn lips spitting venom across the room 
at Momus; her fist was clinched and raised to execute 
her own defense. 

Still the kneeling figure spoke not ; she arose and 
resumed her former attitude under the lamp. She 
wore a beautiful white satin robe that fell around her 
in soft folds which lent her the air of a distressed 


1^8 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

queen. Her dishevelled hair fell around her snowy 
neck in bright, burnished ringlets that would have 
shamed Bernice ; her full, classic brow gleamed like 
marble through the tangled strands of gold that fell 
over it; the soft, deep blue eyes in their soulless. ex- 
pression were arched by the bronzed glitter of grace- 
ful lashes and over-arched by the golden sheen of the 
matchless brows. Her face was white as death as she 
placed her small hand in her bosom and drew forth a 
dagger of finest steel; she held the glistening blade to 
the light and felt its keen edge with the little hand, 
wealthy with jewels. Still no sigh escaped her lips. 
Returning the weapon to her bosom, for a moment 
she seemed under a convulsion of most intense agony; 
no pulse fiuttered in her wrist, or heart beat in her 
bosom ; a fiend had entered her soul and taken pos- 
session. 

She walked with cat-like softness until she passed 
Norman’s- door. Suddenly she heard a door-bolt turn. 
Richard Allen stepped out into the hall, a wretched, 
dissatisfied man. For a moment the two faces met ; 
for a moment all was as silent as the grave ; for a mo- 
ment they stared each other in the face as hungry 
beast and helpless prey. Suddenly Richard Allen 
dropped insensible upon the floor; suddenly a keen, 
piercing shriek filled the house like a demon of terror; 
suddenly Norman sprang from his couch and opened 
his door. He was just in time to get a glimpse of the 
fleeing figure as it gave vent to the most violent out- 
burst of screaming. 


CHAPTER XVi. 


A NEW RESOLVE. 

Trifles, light as air, 

Are to the jealous confirmations strong 
As proofs of holy writ. ^ 

— Shakespeare. 

Trust not the treason of those smiling looks, 

Until ye have their guileful trains well tried ; 

For they are like but unto golden hooks, 

That from the foolish fish their baits do hide; 

So flattering smiles weak lieart doth guide 
Unto her love and tempt to their decay ; 

Whom being caught she kills with cruel pride, 

And feeds at pleasure on the wretched prey. 

— Spenser. 

When Lois and Iris opened their doors they saw 
Norman bending over the prostrate figure of Mr. 
Allen. 

“What has it done? Has it murdered him?” 
questioned Lois as she came upon the scene, fright- 
ened beyond measure. 

“He will recover presently ; it is only a shock — a 
fright,” Norman answered calmly as he placed a 
pillow under Mr. Allen’s head. 

“What is the matter?” Iris chokingly asked. 

“It is only a fright,” whispered Norman without 
betraying any fear. 

Iris sank upon her knees at her sister’s side, and 
they both fixed their eyes upon the cadaverous face of 
the insensible man. 

Lois frequently gave herself up to bitter weep- 
ing. Norman placed his hand upon her head and 
said tenderly : 

‘■‘Control yourself ; this is nothing serious ; she 
has not harmed him.” 

“But he has no pulse,” she sobbed, with a con- 
vulsive shudder. 

“Be quiet sister; he is going to open his eyes; he 
is not dead,” entreated Iris, 


200 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


Suddenly, quickly Richard Allen sprang to his 
feet, exclaiming : 

“Where is she?” 

“Who is it you want? Here is your wife,” said 
Lois in distressed astonishment, as she endeavored to 
catch his hand. 

“No ! no ! I see you ! that woman — that woman 
I saw in the hall 'when I opened my door,” he re- 
joined as he fell into a chair that stood near him. 

Several moments elapsed ere his full presence of 
mind returned ; then he could scarcely realize the en- 
tire situation. His mind, with lightning swiftness, 
went back over the past, associating it with the pres- 
ent feeling of despondency and regret. Now, for the 
first time in his life, there was a relaxation of will 
power, and the splendid hopes of happiness he had 
erected upon the various exploits of his own depravity 
were crumbling at his feet. Murderous courage was 
about to disband its forces and disclose the treachery 
of his midnight life. The intrepid heart that had 
fought so many valorous, dauntless battles against the 
rigid insignia of honor was about to roll its victories 
upon the consuming altar of its own cowardice. But 
so brave a soldier was not destined to relax his ener- 
gies without a struggle for final victory. 

The old jealousy and hatred of all that is fruitful 
of good boiled in his nature with its spiteful vigor. 
Looking out upon the varied landscape of life, his 
eyes downward turned, he failed to see the beautiful 
emblems of moral worth. He lived beneath the 
ennobling virtue of honesty and Christian altruism, 
while his soul groveled in the slum and vice of the 
meanest, foulest hypocrisy. He defined life by the 
magnitude of his own successes, regardless of what it 
cost others. Prejudice and jealousy predominated in 
his nature with such venomous rancor that his loath- 
ing and animosity became almost universal.* Money 
and pleasure had been the talismanic words that had 
committed the twin abortion upon his- life — the pros- 
titution of the conscience and the idolization of its 
own vanity. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


201 


This morning found his heart the miserable wreck 
of rottenness — his tongue the frothy, cobra substance 
of deception — his eyes the blurred and smoked mirror 
of the soul; but he rallied to his support that resolu- 
tion which had never failed him. 

“When resolution hath prepared the will 
It v^ants no helps to further any ill.” 

With his mouth closed, an expression of immov- 
able determination about it, he arose from his seat; 
but thinking his strange ^ conduct might excite some 
suspicion, he asked, his voice betraying but little 
concern : 

“Is this the ghost the servants have been making 
such a clamor about?” 

Norman bowed his head. 

“Well,” he continued, his voice faltering in spite 
of the precaution he took to prevent it, “I do not 
mucb censure old Sambo for hunting other lodgi^s 
at night. Why have you all not mentioned this hor- 
rible thing to me and I would have hunted it down ere 
this. It seems but a woman.” As a diabolical idea 
entered his mind, he added : 

“She must have a purpose in coming here. We 
will do quick work in capturing her. I dare say 
Wellington will consent to that,” he concluded, low- 
ering his voice to an insinuation as he returned to his 
room, calling Lois. 

Norman and Iris passed the morning together, as 
they were often forced to do since Mr. Allen’s ar- 
rival. They had a great many things in common 
with each other and would often discuss one subject 
for a whole morning. Iris had unbounded confidence 
in Norman’s integrity. She was ever affable and 
often complimentary to him. Had he been very pre- 
suming he would have taken her attention as meaning 
more than friendship. While at times she could not 
desist from believing that Lois siiowed him too much 
consideration, and that he reciprocated it, she would 
not allow her mind to dwell on these suspicions. One 
thing was very clear to her — Mr. Allen was getting 


202 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


very jealous — and that would ultimately complete 
their separation. While she deeply regretted this, 
she thought it might make Lois’ home life more pleas- 
ant ; therefore she did nothing to counteract it. 

Soon after breakfast Mr. Allen and Lois went 
out for an early ramble to inhale the dew-ladened fra- 
grance of vines and trees. They had not gone far 
when Mr. Allen said : 

“I am very unhappy now ; and, Lois, I cannot 
keep from censin'ing you a little for it. 1 love you so 
much and you stubbornly persist in annoying me by 
your immovable indifference. IMy heart feels more 
softened towards you this morning than it has for 
some time. You know our lives must be lived to- 
gether ; there is a certain intimacy and feeling which 
must exist between man and wife or else domestic 
liappines.s is a mockery and ))iarriagc is a failure. 
For the last month you have been absolutely uncon- 
cilf’ncd about me and my allairs ; nothing 1 say or do 
is worthy of your consideration.” 

Lois trembled upon his arm like a broken reed ; a 
feeling of deep contrition for what she had done 
passed over her, and she said : 

“I will try to do better from this day hence. For- 
give my past obstinacy and accept my promise for 
the future.” 

“Then you will be mine — just as you were when 
we were married?” he asked quickly. 

“Just the same,” she whispered as her lustrous 
eyes filled with tears. 

Since she knelt over her husband’s insensible 
form, three hours before, she had discussed, with 
heart-sincerity, her love and duty toward him ; but 
there was Norman’s anxious, earnest face meeting her 
upon every bccasion. It was evident that she could 
not serve two masters aright ; therefore she was called 
to decide for herself whom she would choose, was the 
practical (piestion, Ikial or God? If her present re- 
lationship continued with Norman she wmuld jeopar- 
dize his life and her oix'u happiness ; if she gave him 
up under the divine authority of duty, he would be 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


203 

liberated from all the danger which attended his 
presence at Rosedale, and his confidence in the firm- 
ness and purity of her character would be consum- 
mated. Unquestionably duty was on the side of her 
husband; Baal was the love side of the question. 

“A wise man runneth after the ways of the Lord.” 
Twenty-four hours prior to this time all the logic of a 
Spenser, the philosophy of a Newton, the theology of 
a Luther would not have accomplished what a mere 
trifle was doing now. It is strange what little things 
change the tide of a human life. Two months ago 
Lois Allen was reasoning herself into a shameful 
love ; now for the sake of her own happiness — noth- 
ing more or less — she resolved to retract all she had 
said and renounce this forbidden sin. 

The philosophy that came with the first gush of 
love was an artless phantasy of the brain ; now the 
sunshine of real life had melted it into ether and there 
was but one course left upon which to act. The 
rights and privileges due him as a party to her love 
were absorbed in her own selfishness. Instead of go- 
ing to him with that trusting confidence which had 
always characterized their association, she severed the 
bonds between them with all the sovercigjity of a wo- 
man’s heartlessness. 

Those vows so often spoken, caresses so often 
given, were but echoes of the past. Norman’s heart 
had been as a plaything in her hands — to will and to 
do as she pleased with it. So long as love is based 
upon whims^and ideas of propriety, so long will a 
man’s heart be unsafe in t’'.e hands of a woman. A 
woman’s affections follow up her own interest, over- 
rides and tyrannizes over everything else. 

When, after an hour’s ramble, Mr. Allen and 
Lois returned, Norman and Iris were in the summer 
house reading the morning papers. Lois bowed stiffly 
to Norman, drawing herself to a full height as she 
passed. 

Norman knew from the cold, dignified expression 
of her face that her feelings had undergone a revolu- 
tion. He watched her as she walked toward the house 

g6 


204 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


holding gracefully to the arm of her husband as if to 
say to her slighted, forsaken lover, ‘‘Look at me ; he 
is mine, take me away from him if you can.” 

This little escapade had its effect upon him ; his 
heart drooped and sank within him ; the paper fell 
from his hands ; he involuntarily arose from his seat 
to follow her, but recollecting who he was and what 
might be the consequence, he resumed his seat, a 
grieved, wretched man. 

“The man who sets his heart upon a woman 
Is a chameleon and doth feed on air ; 

From air he takes his colors — holds his life — 

Changes with every wind— grows lean or fat, 

Rosy with hope, of green with jealousy, 

Or pallid with despair.” 

“Lois,” said Mr. Allen as they entered the library 
with his arm circled around her, “Norman looks as 
mean as the devil. Don’t 'you suppose his presence 
has something to do with that ghostly fiend coming 
here?” 

Lois forced a laugh at the unexpected remark, as 
she drew her husband to a seat opposite the door. 

“Mr. Wellington sat up about all night, I think ; 
to which I would attribute his troubled appearance. 
I don’t think he would treat any one very wrong,” 
she said, willing to defend Norman from any unjust 
accusation. 

“Bless your soul ! you don’t know these shrewd, 
scholarly fellows ; they are the grandest rascals on 
earth. I would not believe one on oath. You watch 
now and see if what I tell you isn’t true. He has 
wronged that woman in some way and she is here to 
have revenge,” he presumptuously replied. 

While Lois could not gain her consent to believe 
Norman guilty of these inferred charges, yet she 
rather congratulated herself upon having renounced 
his love, because now, if found guilty, he could not 
expect her assistance or sympathy. Deep below these 
surface thoughts and resolves she owned he was in 
deed and truth a true gentleman, and that she loved 
him. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


205 


“He was very kind to us indeed during your ab- 
sence ; but a man’s inherent qualities cannot be meas- 
ured by his affability,” she responded, trying to coin- 
cide with her husband. 

Before Mr. Allen could reply Iris and Mr. Well- 
ington appeared at the door. Norman glanced into 
the room ; his eyes fell upon Lois’ face as it rested on 
the shoulder of her husband. A gleam of half sor- 
rowful triumph came into her eyes as she beheld his 
pale, dejected faca. He could not endure it ; excus- 
ing himself to Iris he retreated to the summer house, 
where Lois first promised to be faithful and true ; as 
yet no unkind thought of her passed the door of his 
heart; he realized there had been a change in her 
since last night, when she had pressed her lips to his, 
invoking God’s blessing upon him. 

* * * * * * * 

“The ghost ! the ghost ! Oh, the ghost ! I can’t 
endure this horrible suspense and fear any longer. If 
you and Mr. Wellington don’t catch that maniac to- 
night and have her sent to the asylum, I am going to 
the city,” expostulated Lois as she thought of last 
night’s terror. 

“What does Wellington say of her?” queried 
Allen determining he would lose no time in preparing 
the minds of Rosedale’s inmates for receiving his 
story. 

“He seems a little troubled this morning, and we 
have not mentioned the subject except incidentally,” 
replied Iris, unconscious of the perverted use that he 
would make of her inadvertant utterances. 

“I would be surprised if he did mention it again. 
Wellington knows more of this mysterious personage 
than you or I have dared to believe,” continued Mr. 
Allen in that same insinuating tone. 

“I don’t believe I catch the full meaning of your 
remarks,” explained Iris as a faint idea dawned upon 
her mind of what he intended to convey. 

“I say it is a significant fact to note, that after 
the excitement of last night, Wellington does not re- 
fer to it during a whole morning’s conversation imme- 


2o6 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


diately following the occurrence of the event. There 
is some mystery here; but I don’t accuse your friend 
as being one of the mischievous party.” 

“We have,” began Iris, “amply discussed this 
theme time and again ; not longer than last night, 
while you were asleep, we said everything in connec- 
tion with it that was possible, and I am sure that he 
has made more demonstration towards capturing it 
than any one else.” 

“With a studied aim not to accomplish his object 
— rather pretended object” — Allen’ broke in, with a 
sneering laugh. 

“This is entirely presumptuous with you,” em- 
phasized Iris. 

“Inferential presumption with a splendid array of 
facts lo make it conclusive,” he jeered. 

Lois did not open her lips ; she felt her husband 
was uttering a base falsehood, but somehow, through 
a selfish regard for her own future and a mythical, 
misconceived idea of duty, she sat by with her lips 
sealed and heard her best and truest friend traduced — 
the man who would liaA^e sacrificed his life for her, 
yet she opened not her mouth in his defense. 

“Only to a diseased judgment and warped con- 
science,” replied Iris earnestly. ^‘I have been with 
Mr. Wellington every day since its sudden appearance 
and I am sure there has been nothing suspicious in 
his conduct.” 

“In your opinion, you had better udd,” taunted 
Allen. 

“There are certain manifestations,” resumed Iris, 
without suffering herself to become much exercised, 
“that are inherently right by every rule of justice. 
When it requires analytical powers to distinguish a 
man’s faults I have a very high regard for him, be- 
cause there are so many men whose facial expression 
betray their depth of character. Right and wrong 
are not mere opinions, they are principles which 
live in the world as virtue and vice. Your opinion or 
mine does not affect the existence of either ; all it can 
do is to have a corresponding result upon our lives.” 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 20 ^ 

“I do not care a cent for your religious philoso- 
phy or for your opinion upon ethical science. I sim- 
ply intended calling your attention to certain facts 
which point significanUy to a certain conclusion. I 
was aware that your attachment for Wellington would 
at first cause you to dissent from my warnings ; but 
I think after you deliberate over the matter you will 
agree with me — that after all this is a Nemesis come 
to revenge herself upon Wellington for his miscreant 
deeds.” 

“Improbable, Mr. Allen,” exclaimed Iris. “These 
are serious charges 3’ou are bringing against this man; 
and, inasmuch as all your suspicions are groundless, 
they appear maliciously unjust. Prejudice sometimes 
binds our will and passions against reason and all the 
higher obligations we owe to each other ” 

‘Stop!” exclaimed Mr. Allen excitedly; “let me 
explain. I don’t accuse anybody — distinctly under- 
stand that. As for that empty song of prejudice, I 
have heard it all my life ; higher obligation is a 
phmseological expression that signifies a sneaking 
sccmndrel.” 

Richard Allen knew nothing of the secret rela- 
tionship that existed between his wife and Mr. Well- 
ington ; his jealousy was not based upon their seem- 
ing fondness for each other, but upon the cold indif- 
ference of his wife* and the courteous, high-minded 
conduct of Norman. His hatred was, therefore, no 
part of any wrong which he conceived Wellington 
had done him, but it grew out of the unconquerable 
aversion he had for all men who discussed the virtues 
and vices of the country with a strong approbation of 
the one and a strong condemnation of the other. He 
could not tolerate the presence and influence of men 
whose ideas were above his. He found fault with 
nine- tenths of the leading men, and delighted in ven- 
tilating his rancor before his wife and others with 
whom he was associated. 

Lois had always known this predominant trait of 
her husband’s and often tried to quell it, but what- 
ever might have been her influence she could do 


2o8 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


nothing towards reconstructing his stubborn disposi- 
tion. 

Iris was more than shocked at Mr. Allen’s re- 
marks, but she firmly resolved to meet his reflections 
on the principle that right should always be defended. 

“What is the real difference between implying a 
thing and speaking it?” she asked. 

“One is to think and the other is to speak it,” he 
retorted. 

“Then you think it but lacks the real manhood to 
say it,” she fearlessly returned. 

“This is a free country and I have a perfect right 
to any private opinion I may wish to encourage,” he 
said, with a hasty cough. 

“So long as it does not involve the honor and 
good name of another,” she interposed. 

“Ah ! curse that law ; you have taken everything 
back to those elementary rules of boyhood. You 
might discourse to a boy (in whom you were trying 
to pump clerical lore) of honor, but to a sensible 
man, — you had as well try to melt a stone by blowing 
your breath on it,” he said as he arose from his n^at 
and walked across the room. 

“We often,” she replied retaining her equanimity, 
“find ourselves in harmony with an idea without be- 
ing able to give a reason for it. Men are not always 
controlled by circumstances or exaternal environments, 
but are led into certain heresies by the cultivation of 
a disposition that antagonizes all that is orthodox. 
The principles in us all, that would justify our own 
deeds is very delicate and fibrous in its texture, and is 
susceptible of the grossest perversion. While you do 
not openly implicate Mr. Wellington, you would have 
us look upon him as a very mean man, though he is, 
in this case, innocent. You have ostensibly taken 
this position as being in harmony with your feelings 
and, by the rule of inordinate selfishness, justify your- 
self. Is this fair, Mr. Allen? I am willing that you 
dispose of Mr. Wellington’s services but tell him so in 
a courteous manner.” 

“I thank you for this lecture and your friendly 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


209 

counsel, but insist that I still have the right to think 
and do as I please,” he replied angrily. 

“Most certainly you do ; and if I wounded your 
feelings only try to believe it unintentional,” she said 
apologetically as he hurriedly left the room. 

“Iris, you were a little unjust with him. His 
faults are numerous but I don’t think he is the worst 
man living,” chided Lois a tinge of sadness in her 
tone. 

“By no means the worst, I hope,” replied Iris. 
“But this is a very unjust verdict he is trying to bring 
upon Norman Wellington. In your heart you know 
he is not guilty of what your husband reflects upon 
him ; in your heart you know he is a gentleman.” 

“All that is true. I have a very high regard for 
Mr. Wellington;” her voice faltering she continued ; 
“but it does no good to taunt Mr. Allen about it. You 
couldn’t change him.” 

“Is it becoming us to have our best friend slandered 
before our eyes without uttering a word in his be- 
half? OjLieer ideas you have of right. Lois, you are 
my sister and it is of your husband I speak, however 
the truth is the same whether it applies to you or my- 
self. But why did he faint and fall this morn- 
ing? Why did his heart turn sick with fear? All 
those allusions made to Norman’s conduct are a mere 
bagatelle compared to this significant phenomenon. 
Following this suspicious event why does he devise 
and plot to assail the character of a man whose past 
is unquestionable unless it is to exonerate himself 
from possible contingencies?” 

“Let us drop the subject ; it is very disagreeable 
to me,” interrupted Lois somewhat distressed. 

“Your husband has money, and money is power,” 
continued Iris without noticing the interruption. 
“Whatever he may assert about Mr. Wellington, his 
money, by perjury, will establish as true.” 

“Yes; but you don’t mean to say my husband 
would defile himself by such an act,” inquired Lois. 

“Lois, I have lost that confidence in your hus- 
band I once had ; — not for any one particular act * 


210 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


which has come under my observation, but from the 
general trend of his life. If I had the remotest doubt 
as to the correctness of my opinions I would leave 
them unexpressed. I feel that I am justified in taking 
this privilege ” 

‘•There we differ and I would have thanked you 
most gratefully to have kept your opinions,” inter- 
rupted Lois haughtily. 

“What is the trouble about?” catechised Norman 
on entering the room, with but little idea the question 
he was propounding expressed so much of the true 
sentiment of their hearts. 

Lois turned away as if she had not observed him 
with rather a disdainful smile upon her lips. Nor- 
man noticed it and another pang entered his soul. 

Iris, always ready for every occasion, said: 

“Lois was laying down a few principles necessary 
to be observed to govern a husband successfully.” 

“Enumerate them to me,” he requested trying to 
dispel the gloom that was settling over him. 

“Very well, if you will allow me to abbreviate 
them into a few words.” 

“Certainly ; you may choose your own words,” 
he assented. 

“They were about this way,” began Iris as she 
looked at Lois and smiled : ist. Learn to keep your 
golden silence ; 2nd. If your husband says anything 
you don’t believe, be mute; 3rd. If he plagarizes one 
of your ideas don’t tell him of it ; if he says it is one 
of the richest ideas he ever advanced, don’t contradict 
him, though you know it is your own creation ; 4th. 
When he talks listen, or rather be silent; 5th. If he 
proposes to hang your best friend — unjustly I mean — 
be silent — that is, don’t say anything.” 

“Five very simple lessons. If these rules are un- 
exceptionably true, every wife ought to have a happy 
home; for without an exception every wife prefers to 
be governed rather than to govern. If Mrs. Allen 
would but give the public the benefit of her observa- 
^ tions every home would be a little monarchy within 
itself,” he replied, his voice charged with irony. 


ts marriage a failure? 21 1 

Lois, seeing Mr. Allen pass through the hall ex- 
cused herself and followed him. This was another 
blow to the man whose heart was already bleeding 
with sorrow, but, resolving to make the best of it, he 
said to Iris : 

“It is strange that nothing ever has been heard 
from Humphrey.” 

“Does not his business manager know anything 
about him?” queried Iris with a sigh of regret. 

“Not a thing,” was his concise answer, but he 
followed it with a question that rather startled Iris. 
“Did you see him that last evening he was here — the 
time he met your sister in the summer house and, un- 
der the impression it was you, made an impetuous 
avowal of love ; taking her refusal for a rejection of 
his suit, he took her in his arms, kissed her and with- 
out giving her time for an explanation, suddenly took 
his departure, declaring he would never return ?” 

“No ; I did not see him,” she said meditatively. 
“But is that true, that he mistook sister for me?” 

“Yes; it is every word true. Mrs. Allen was my 
informant, and she promised me she would tell you 
about it.” 

“I am very sorry, but this is the first of it with 
me,” she said regretfully. 

“You look so grieved, I am sorry I told you.” 

“Don’t be ! I am so grateful to you,” she said as 
her eyes filled with tears. 

“Did you love him?” he asked tenderly, as he 
thought of his own love. 

“Mr. Wellington,” she said as she looked up, the 
tears streaming down her cheeks, “I have always 
wanted a brother. I admire and esteem you very 
much ; say you will fill a brother’s place to me, and I 
will throw away the title ‘Mr.’ to your name — call you 
simply Norman, and will be your sister indeed.” 

He bowed his head, almost overcome with emo- 
tion. She continued: “Don’t think me weak, Nor- 
man, but I loved Raymond Humphrey a thousand 
times more than words can express.” 

“He must have returned it, poor fellow !” 


212 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


Further conversation was hindered by the reap- 
pearance of Mr. Allen and Lois. Iris, afraid to trust 
her feelings in the presence of any one, she withdrew. 
Mr. Allen retired to the smoking-room, leaving Lois 
and Norman once more alone together. She sat cold, 
proud and imperious ; he sad and hopeless. A few 
moments passed in silence, then he said softly : 

“What have I done to merit your displeasure?” 

“Nothing,” she said indifferently. 

“What does it all mean? You loved me so ten- 
derly last night.” 

“It means this now,” she said sorrowfully, unshed 
tears filling the liquid depths of her lovely eyes. “I 
mean to discontinue our relationship and at all haz- 
ards to be a better woman. I have lived with this sin 
upon me as long as I can bear it. Let us never again 
think of the past or in any way refer to it. I say it 
must be so. I am going to keep this resolve as invio- 
late as the law of the Medes and Persians. If this 
affair continues longer it will ruin and utterly wreck 
every hope of this life. As for your love, I will just 
call it devotion; it has been very sweet and tender ; 
for that I will remember you and will never — no, 
never — forget what has passed between us.” 

“Lois,” he whispered softly, a look of despair in 
his face, “I still love you. Please don’t treat me so 
cruelly as this. I have so much I want to say. Meet 
me at the fountain to-night. For God’s sake don’t re- 
fuse me this time.” 

“Yes,” I will meet you to-night, but this must be 
the last,” she answered as she heard Mr. Allen’s ap- 
proaching footsteps. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

AT THE FOUNTAIN. 

Weep not that the world changes — did it keep 
A stable, changeless course, ’twere cause to weep. 

—Bryant. 

“Lois, are you going to thrust aside and smother 
every feeling for me, that your love may resolve itself 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

into bitterness? You say you will just call my love 
devotion, and that we will just be friends and forget 
the past. Lois, if I could only forget, then I would 
make you happy, but my love cannot be murdered. I 
will not — I cannot insist upon your changing your re- 
solves ; there is but one death to which the human 
family is subject and I can but fall a victim to that 
death — its pain will but ease my aching breast. I 
have always said if our love was ever shattered it 
would be by your hand. Darling, why don’t you 
pity me?” 

Norman bowed himself at her feet, his heart full 
of misery and wretchedness in the thought of losing 
the love and respect of the only woman he ever truly 
loved. 

Lois looked down in stifled pity at the heart- 
broken man kneeling at her feet — the man to whom 
she had spoken sweet words — the man she had loved 
in some way. Her voice tremulous, but cold, she 
said : 

“Mr. Wellington, I have no patience with such 
weakness; under some circumstances it would become 
a woman to weep for a lost love, but for man, the 
stronger, to permit affairs of this nature to unman 
him is simply intolerable with me.” 

“Lois, how can you reproach me so cruelly and 
coldly, so devoid of sympathy? Was it not you that 
taught me to love ? Did you not teach me the lesson 
I know so well ? Had it not been for you I should 
have always been indifferent to woman. Oh ! to die 
and take my sins with me, thus sparing you and my 
friends the self-reproach of ever having known and 
encouraged the acquaintanceship of one so totally de- 
praved in every faculty of mind and soul.” 

Lois, calm and impassionate, untouched and heart- 
less, interrupting said : 

“Say no more ; anything you can say or do will 
not ever scathe my feelings with penitence ; I have 
rules to govern my heart which I mean to keep in- 
violate. Never show to me by act or word that you 
even remember the past.” 


214 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 


She turned her white face to the west ; the sun had 
sunk beneath the horizon and no trace remained but a 
faded crimson light. Something in the stillness around 
and the soft twilight drew her imperious eyes back to 
the bowed figure at her feet. She said in her heart : 
“It is almost intolerable to see a strong man weep. 
The grief of a despairing woman may be a sad and 
sorrowful sight ; her tears and lamentations may be 
heartrending and distressing, but the sight of a man 
humbled down by irresistable sorrow, breaking forth 
into wild sobs that seem to convulse his strong nature 
with unlimited agony that few care to witness, and 
when seen as I now see it, is seldom forgotten.” 

She stood erect and stiff, cold as ice and motion- 
less as marble. 

“Mr. Wellington,” she calmly said, “do not give 
yourself up to grief ; though I should confess the most 
profound love for you, what could it avail. ^ Oyr lives 
are restricted by surrounding circumstances. We must 
part to-night forever as regards our past; an eternal 
farewell must be spoken.” 

A long, shivering sigh broke from Norman’s lips 
as he arose and occupied a seat near her. 

“Lois,” he whispered, “do not leave me ; remem- 
ber you said it was the last time.” 

“I will obey you this time ; but I pray you not to 
speak again of love, seeing that you can do no more 
to comfort me anxl secure happiness than to reiterate 
empty assurances of a meaningless and purposeless de- 
votion. My dream is fled and my happiness destroyed, 
all that I have treasured in my heart is shattered to 
irreparable fragments. You are the only man I ever 
loved, and now you are at my side, cold with despair 
and hopeless as the grave. I look at you, but you are 
not the same ; you no longer have any part in my life. 
If you ^ have suffered for me you have not suffered 
alone ; it has cost me as much as you. Is there any- 
thing on earth so terrible as the burial of a dead past ? 
It is with unutterable woe tlfat I speak these words, 
but they do mean and shall mean something.” 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 21 ^ 

Norman raised the white hand which lay passive 
in. his to his lips. 

“Darling Lois, my beautiful queen, you have for- 
bidden me to refer to the past or to speak of love, but 
you must bear with me now, — this is the darkest hour 
of my life — it is the one in which all the bitter regret ' 
the double despair and hopelessness of a disappointed 
life are buried. You must remember how much I 
have loved and adored, and then think how great, 
how terrible, how heart-tearing must be my doom? 
You know my heart next to God. The brother, in 
whose kind presence you whiled away your childhood 
days, did not tell you more of his heart than I, nor did 
you know him better. But now what do I hear? The 
same sweet voice that taught me to love, is pleading 
with me to forget, to smother, crush, thrust away the 
vital principle of my life. Oh ! heavens ! do you 
know what you ask ; it is life. You had as well with 
these soft lingers unlock the fountain of my heart and 
give its blood to thirsty earth. When one individual 
has won the entire heart tliere is nothing left for the 
world'-, so with me now. I have given all I had to 
vou in such a way that no power could deed it back 
to me. But at last I am robbed, my faults are made 
known ; I am no longer the same.” 

Lois heard him with patience. When he ceased 
speaking she did notattempt to reply; she feltit almost 
killed her to tear him out of her heart, but she would 
live and try to be happy in spite of fate. The dear 
face we have learned to love, the eyes we delight to 
gaze into, the numerous arts of form and manner which 
have made our idol a joy and delight to us, are all 
glorified and deified by the depth of our own love and 
by the extravagance of our own imaginations. For so 
long our deity seems to have no fault; then, all at 
once our eyes are opened and we see him as he is — a 
creature much as others ; selfish perhaps, or cold and 
cruel, forgetting that which he should have remem- 
bered, and regardless of feelings which he was bound 
to cherish; and then in this altered relation we see 
before us only the empty shell of what we once 


2i6 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


thought to be so perfect — and love becomes bitterness 
forever. 

Thus it was with Lois. Her love of six months 
since was gone — vanished into thin air. Strange to 
say and strange to think, but this Norman Welling- 
ton who was present in the flesh, bore indeed the out- 
ward similitude of the man whom she had loved, but 
was distinctly different from the man who had reigned 
in her heart. She knew after to-night she must begin 
a new life, bereft of all she had fondly dreamt would 
make up for her joyless past. There was nothing 
to be gained by seeing him again ; no object in a rep- 
etition of this miserable scene of woe and regret. 

“After to-night,” she said to him, ‘T will never 
willingly see you again.” 

“Surely, Lois, we can be friends. Not long since 
you wished we could be friends as we were when we 
first knew each other. Surely you cannot mean we 
must not see each other again. I did not think it pos- 
sible for my own Lois to turn from me in bitterness.” 

“Friends,” she replied bitterly, “I might have in- 
timated something of the kind, but how can we be 
friends? How can there be any friendship between 
us? As long as our lives last we could never meet 
indifferently. Friendship between us ! Friendship is 
a sweet and peaceful thing born of mutual esteem and 
confidence, and full of mutual consolation. What is 
there in the love that has raged so passionately be- 
tween you and me to suggest so calm and impassioned 
a climax as friendship? No, let us part and pray that 
time may cure the wounds which we have inflicted 
upon each other ; the wounds made are too deep to 
allow friendship between us. 

‘Friendship is love purged from all its dross.’ 

Time may bring to us relief and indifference, but re- 
solves simply cannot do it.” 

‘^Lois, to each man and woman God has created 
one other soul that can give content — so that no other 
person on earth can sweeten their lives but that one 
only, and when a man who loves one by some sad 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


217 


mistake marries another, then he cannot find happi- 
ness. Is my sin so great that I must always suffer in 
this manner? What have I done more than other men 
that I can share none of the blessings of life? Why 
should nature’s God have been so cruel to one so frail 
and helpless as myself? You have told me so often 
that you loved me, that I filled you heart’s ideal of a 
man. Will you not repeat those words again? This 
is our last time together on earth; we part to-night 
forever ; then let me drink from your heart, in words 
from your own sweet lips, the story that is written 
there. My own, darling Lois, do not deny me now.” 

Norman waited a reply but none came. Lois sat 
by him, her face 

‘ Pale as death, cold as marble, star sweet on a gloom 
profound.’ 

No tear dimmed the dark, expressive eye. The 
grief and misery that surged in her aching breast lay 
incarcerated beyond the convulsive throbs where tears 
flow from a bruised heart. A wild look was in her 
eyes — a look of dark, hopeless, deadening despair. She 
had stood brave, undaunted, facing and combating 
what seemed to her a cruel, heartless fate, but she felt 
no longer equal to the severe ordeal. What depths of 
misery, what depths of utter wretchedness, what 
depths of self-reproach lay chambered against the 
blood-stained walls of her heart’s sensibility, remains 
to be told at the bar where all things will be made 
plain. 

“I am so miserable,” she thought. Then raising 
her face to Norman’s she cried : 

“My heart is broken ! I am dying ! Yes, I am 
dead to my old self; I am dead to my friends and dead 
to my only love. When I was a child I was always 
so happy. Until I knew you I never felt the bonds of 
sin and shame — I never felt the pang of utter woe. 
Oh ! think me not cruel if I say you have filled my 
life with the darkest shadow that ever cast its gloom 
over human pathway. Think me not cruel if I tell 
you that I can never love the man again who has 


2i8 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


brought into my life so many trials, so many tempta- 
tions and such bitter self-contempt. TJiink me not 
cruel if I tell you ‘good-bye’ as I would the humblest 
servant of my house.” 

She then drew her hand from his as if aroused to 
the consciousness of some impending danger. 

With a wild look of anguish in his face, he ex- 
claimed ; 

“Oh Lois ! are you not content to blast my future 
life with your heartless decree? Stay with me.” 

“No, never again. To-night I renew those vows 
once spoken so sacredly. Now I ask you in the name 
of what you once called ^Iqvd^ to never think of me 
again.” 

“I have loved so madly and this is the end,” re- 
flected Norman. Leaving his seat Ini followed her to 
the one she had taken, and bowed at her side. A 
strange, wearied, uncertain light flamed from his 
countenance for a moment, then his pale cheeks grew 
more deathly, while his eyes sought her face in search 
of some vestige of love and pity, but no trace of the 
past could be seen upon her bloodless, pallid face. She 
had done as she said — divested her heart of everything 
akin to love, and for one moment felt her bosom surge 
with hatred for him. She had suffered for their love, 
but it was appeased by a cheerful disposition, hence 
her distress was trivial and flitting as compared to his; 
as his love was soul, heart embracing as compared to 
her’s. 

Love is to often attended with hours of heart- 
burning — hours, days and nights of restlessness, sad- 
ness and sighs ; hence the pale, cheek, hollow eyes 
and countenance indicative of melancholy and tears, 
is ever the accompaniment of nearly all deep attach- 
ments. Still it is one in which a few moments of 
bliss blot out all the hours of distress, and one to which 
the parties will look back as to a sacred epoch in their 
lives. So it was with Norman Wellington. He loved 
Lois Allen with all the depth and power of his strong, 
passionate nature. He gave to her the one love of his 
heart. Norman’s love did not mean Lois Allen’s love. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 21 9 

It was not easily extinguished ; his heart was not a 
throne, changing sovereigns with every new acquain- 
tance. His passion was that of mature age when the 
moral feelings", the reason and judgment mould its 
growth and enrich its tendrils, until they take deep 
root in every fibre of the heart. 

“You will not leave me now,” he entreated. 

“Yes; I must go,” was the cold, brief response. 

“Lois, I have only a few more words to say. Will 
you hear them?” 

She looked down into his sad, pleading face, and 
answered: 

“Yes, Mr. Wellington, I will hear what you have 
to say. Time will soon cure you of this feeling.” 

He looked straight into her face and asked, his 
heart choked with pain : 

“Have I taught you to doubt?” 

“No ; you have not. You love me now, but I am 
sure absence with time’s healing draught will soon 
work a cure.” 

“Lois,” he exclaimed, “you know so little of me — 
to think that I will ever change. The love I gave 
you was my life.” Continuing more calmly, he said: 
“I desire so much to tell you of myself before we part. 
This is the last interview with the only person who 
can make lifQ even bearable. As you fade from my 
sight all is blank and hopeless. The future promises 
no solace from her treasured lap for my disconsolate 
heart. You do not like to hear me speak of self — my 
poor, worthless self; but listen while I tell you of my 
cousin who bore your name and features. On the 
banks of the Jackson River, in Northwest Virginia, 
nestling among clustering trees* and grape-bearing 
vines, is a small stone building erected the year follow- 
ing the surrender of the British at Yorktown. This 
was the home of my uncle, the foster-father of Lois 
Earl and myself. We three lived there alone with the 
old family servants. Lois was the daughter of my 
mother’s cousin, having been left an orphan af eight 
years of age she came to my uncle’s for a home. Not- 
withstanding our relationship as cousins, we called 


220 IS MARRIAGE A P'AILURE ? 

each other brother and sister. I was very fond of her 
and she returned my affection. She was just like you, 
Lois. Her eyes, her hair, long and black like yours, 
and then she had your soft, sweet expression. 

“Just such a calm, moonlight night as this I saw 
her last. When supper was over we were led by uncle 
to the rear veranda, where we remained until the soft 
gleams of twilight merged into night. As the moon 
rose in her beauty, little Cousin Lois took my hand in 
hers and said, ‘Brother, let us go to my rose garden. 
I love flowers more when they are freshly laden with 
dew.’ We promenaded the pebble walks until weary, 
then sought rest on a rustic seat in the center of the 
garden. Lois looked across to the east where the 
moon shone above the hilltops, and said in her child- 
ish way ; 

“Fair hangs the moon and soft the Zephyrs blow, 

Proudly riding over the azure realm.” 

“She was quite a precocious child, owing it to the 
careful training of my uncle. A moment she gazed 
on the moon, then turning playfully to me she said, 
‘Brother, those lines were from Gray. Does not the 
stillness around and the soft evening atmosphere al- 
most inspire you to poetical vision } Though I have 
never read much to give elasticity to my expressions, 
yet I feel and meditate upon the different phases of 
life with as much spirit and enthusiasm as those whose 
minds have been polished and trained under the more 
rigid and exacting systems of education. Brother, do 
not laugh at me, but something tells me this is a cruel, 
bitter world — that we cannot always be happy as now.’ 

“Her eyes filled with tears, her sweet, childish 
voice, saddened with an unnatural despair too deep for 
her young heart to bear, I drew her to me and pressed 
her head to my shoulder. She looked straight up from 
beneath her jetty, silken lashes into my face. I shall 
never forget the awful anguish written upon her perfect 
features ; the sad, despairing look that was in her eyes. 

I never thought to take her in the house. Just then I 
was excited beyond reason. ‘Oh, my darling sister, 
wh^it IS the matter ?’ I exclaimed. She caught my 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


221 


face between her soft, little hands, and kissed me. 
Those sweet, childish lip-prints are upon my cheek 
now. From that dark period of my life until we met, 
no woman’s face ever moved the depths of my passion- 
ate soul, and it is so strange that my little sister apd 
you are so much alike. If she were not dead I would 
say you were the same. 

“My own darling love, believe me when I say 
that little Lois, though only a child, as she neared the 
shore of the other world, became aware of some im- 
pending danger hanging over us. Whether it was 
God who opened the dark abyss and gave to Lois this 
strong premonition of the cruel hour in which fate 
would separate us, I cannot answer, but as you listen 
to this secret history the sudden adumbration of Lois 
Earle’s, the fearful and startling presentiments that 
gave to her mind the power to look through the dark 
window of futurity at the foul deed that was to for- 
ever end the earthly happiness of two young hearts — 
you may determine for yourself. 

“ ‘Brother,’ she answered, ‘until now I have been 
quite happy with you and uncle. Oh ! to God could 
we always be so. I am sure we could if we only could 
be together ; but dearest, true little brother, we must 
soon part. The time is not far distant when some- 
thing cruel and irresistible will come between us.’ 
‘Sister,’ I said, ‘let us not make our lives unhappy by 
gloomy forebodings.’ She placed her little hand over 
my mouth as she continued : ‘Do not interrupt me 
until I have finished. I have so much to say to you 
before we go in, for I feel after to-night we will never 
meet again as now. Do you know, dear brother, I 
sometimes doubt our relationship to each other, al- 
though our good uncle tells us our mothers were 
cousins. Something in your presence, in your bright 
face, speaks to my listening soul that the tie of blood 
does not unite us in the bond of kinship. Yet I wish 
you were my own brother. I remember a brother, 
kind and dear, away off somewhere before I came to 
this place, and would like him to know you.’ ‘Lois,’ 
I said in astonishment, ‘what is all this you are telling 


222 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


me? Why have you not spoken of this before? 
I thought we gave each other our fullest confidence ; 
I did not think my dear little sister ever had a thought 
kept from me.’ 

“ ‘Norman, do not blame your little sister to- 
night ; if she has ever concealed anything from you it 
has been for your happiness and contentment. But 
be patient and do not laugh at me. Something tells 
me we must part soon — it may be in death. I cannot 
tell, only I know a great terror is going to befall us, 
and I cannot bear to give you up even if there is no 
kindred ties between us save that of foster sister and 
brother. I do not want you ever to love another as 
you love me.’ Her face was sad and earnest. I see 
those eyes looking up into my face now. Look at me, 
Lois ; let me see if your eyes are the same when there 
is no light but the moon.” 

Lois turned her pale face toward him ; she un- 
closed her dreamy eyes ; never was despair and hu- 
man wretchedness written more plainly upon the face 
of any one. Could Norman have looked into her 
heart and seen the aching burden that lay sorely 
there ; could he have fathomed the cause of the hope- 
less, death-like expression on her face, he would have 
left his story untold. Continuing, he said: 

“I smiled at her eager earnestness ; it seemed to 
wound her poor little heart, and she looked so sorrow- 
fully at me that I repented of having desecrated the 
solemnity of the occasion with even a smile. I 
thought her the sweetest child on earth as she looked 
searchingly into my face and told me her wishes. 
‘Oh, Norman, let us talk of our future to-night, she 
continued. ‘I do not want to be separated from you 
and yet I know such is to be my fate. As yet our 
hearts are too young to understand the mysterious 
impulses that brighten and fill 'human life with yet 
unborn joys, but I do not think you and I would ever 
love any pne but each other.’ 

“For a moment I did not reply. ‘Lois,’ I began, 
‘how long have you been thinking about this. I have 
never looked forward to the time when we should 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


223 


separate ; we are too young to borrow future troubles. 
Come, let us go and join uncle, he is through with his 
pipe by this time and is waiting for us.’ She arose 
from my side and stood by me. For one moment she 
seemed to communicate with the unseen world, then 
she grew a little more agitated and again all color fled 
from her cheeks. She threw her arms around my 
neck and kissed me passionately, murmuring: ‘My 
dear brother, I fear to go away from the garden to- 
night. What is that?’ she exclaimed and fell as dead 
in my arms. 

“It was a gun-shot followed by my uncle’s voice 
crying, •! am killed.’ O ! Lois, come from your spirit 
home and help me tell my story. This is the first time 
I have ever told what I know of the sad occurrence of 
that night.” 

If Norman and Lois had listened they could have 
heard a soft voice answer, “Yes, I am here,” but the 
sweet voice was borne away by the soft zephyrs to 
lose its sound where no ear could hear. Unconscious 
of the dark figure standing in the shadow of some 
shrubbery, Norman continued: 

“I called to Lois, but no answer came ; she lay 
dead in my arms. The moon had rolled in silence 
along her pathless orbit until she had risen above the 
tree-tops and now shed her brightest light upon my 
poor sister’s face ; wan and still was every feature, 
calm and ghastly the last expression it bore. I laid 
her down upon the seat and hastened to the house to 
tell my uncle. But, oh ! what a sad sight met me 
there. I left Lois dead in the rose-garden and now 
found my uncle prostrate, bleeding, dead to earth upon 
the spot where we left him. Who perpetrated the 
foul deed and for what cause I have never learned. 
After calling aloud for help I returned to where I had 
left Lois, but she was not there. Too great and pain- 
ful was my disappointment. I clasped my hands and 
fell upon my knees weeping ; heart-broken and blinded 
by excitemet I started to return to the house, when I 
saw a group of men, two of whom bore Lois away ; 
fear seized me, and I sank helpless to the ground, 


IS marriage a failure? 


224 

where I remained until the next day. 

“I remember nothing more of her. When I re- 
covered from my fright and excitement a stranger 
was standing over me. I arose and looked around ; 
half-conscious, I only saw the smoked and naked walls 
of our little home ; it had been burned. ‘Where is 
Uncle and Lois?’ I questioned. Then I remembered 
the sad scenes of the night, and to-day my thoughts 
are as confused concerning that night as then. I ex- 
plained to the stranger who was gazing at me in mute 
astonishment the best I could of what occurred the 
preceding night, after which he took me by the hand 
and led me to his home, only a few miles up the 
river in the dense forest ; here I lived and was treated 
with parental kindness, until I could no longer en- 
dure the scenes of my childhood; so I went West to 
forget the past. Some effort was made to bring the 
murderer and incendiary to punishment, but no clue 
to the true marau^iers could ever be found. 

To this day the destruction of our home and the 
tragic and sudden ending of two lives is wrapped in 
a deep mystery. Two miles west of the old home are 
two graves now covered with grass and flowers, which 
were first seen a few mornings after that horrible 
night. I used to go to them often and pray and weep, 
for every one said beneath their clayey mound slept 
the bodies of my dearest ones. My life and home in 
this country you know. Shall I leave you now for- 
ever?*’ He looked straight into her pale face, his 
dark eyes illumed by the deep^ undying passion of his 
soul, as he anxiously waited for her answer. 

Lois sat motionless ; had death laid his chilly 
fingers upon her she could not have been paler or 
more speechless. There was life, but no motion ; 
there was an aching, bleeding heart, but no power to 
feel its bitter pangs. What was passing through Lois 
Allen’s mind will never reach the ears of any mortal. 
The deep, bitter, stinging, lacerating regret and 
repentance that welled up in her heart for the one 
awful, terrible, irremediable mistake of her life be- 
longs to the secret realms of her own sorrowful soul. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


225 

What sad memories and new throes awakened by the 
repetition of what was written indelibly upon her 
mind at an early age — the saddest and most cruel hour 
— was too self-afFecting to unlock the channels of 
speech. What she now realized was the greatest sur- 
prise of her life. 

^ If from the silent city of the dead its first in- 
habitant had arisen and stood before her in mortal 
garb, greater surprise could not have stilled her throb- 
bing bosom. Some moments passed ere she had power 
to change her position. What an awful silence those 
few moments were to these unhappy ones is not 
“given man to know.” For one moment she pressed 
her shapely white hand to her troubled bosom ; for 
one moment she stared about her; for one moment 
the dim, erroneous past — the sad, miserable present — 
the dark, mystic future were before her. Then she 
arosefrom her seat, stood closely by Norman and said 
calmly : 

“Norman, no ; you shall never leave me. If pos- 
sible I will see you again to-morrow night. I will be 
rfested and have regained my usual strength by then. 
Of course this will alter all my predelictions about 
our future ; woman’s will, you know, fluctuates like 
prices at the stock exchange. Please don’t condemn 
me for the parting caress,” she said lightly, as she 
stooped and kissed the well-loved lips and then 
walked away in the direction of the house. She had 
pursued the little path but a few yards when a voice 
sweet and soft — a voice she recognized as that of her 
sister — called ; “Lois, come and go with me !” Fright- 
ened, she turned her face in the direction of the call 
and saw Iris coming toward her. With pallid lips 
and husky voice she questioned: 

“Have you heard and seen all?” 

“Yes, darling sister, but I do not blame you,” 
was the kind response. 

“O, Iris ! How could you?” she exclaimed, as 
she knelt in wild despair at her feet. 


CHAPTER XVIIl. 


A DISCOVERY. 

‘‘Ob ! nothing now can please me ; 

Darkness and solitude, and sighs and tears. 

And all the irreparable train of grief, 

Attend my steps forever.” 

Soon after Lois left Norman he fell into a deep 
meditation. The moon threw her silvery beams 
around him in exuberant refulgence ; the soft zephyrs 
chanted their anthems among the trees and flowers, 
while all nature reposed in lovely solitude. The 
wretched, desolate man was living in the past. While 
his mind was yet young and flexible with the first 
dawn of memory, around him shimmered the glitter- 
ing crescent of innocent childhood, when love was 
the dream gate of happiness and trust the pearly 
hinges on which it turned. There were beauty and 
real pleasure in the distant memories that took him 
back to the golden days when deception and misery 
formed no part of his life. Why had this beautiful 
link been missing so long to return to-night . in its 
primitive freshness? 

Now the mystery in part was solved. The face 
of Lois Earle Allen furnished the facinating medium 
to the rusty archives of memory, and burnished them 
to brightness. Her face first awakened the longing to 
dispel the vaporous cloud which had settled upoq^the 
past and drop the lantern of memory into her s^ble 
cells. That singular, mystical association of Lois 
Allen with the past was explained. 

After all it was not so enigmatical that he should 
love another man’s wife, since it was but the.continua- 
tion of earliest and fondest attachment. It did not en- 
ter his mind that the little sister and Mrs. Allen might 
be the same person ; he only thought it was a strange 
coincidence. If Lois would love him as his little sis- 
ter did he would yet be happy. “Lois !” what love — 
what music— what sublimity in that name to him ! 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 227 

But the time had come when he had lost confidence 
in the promises of woman’s love ; his shattered hopes 
had been overtaken by the funeral dirge of despair ; 
his heart repeated : 

“Hopes— what are they? Beads of morning 
Strung on slender blades of grass, 

Or a spider’s web adorning 
In a strait and treacherous pass.” 

Irreparable fate that had in one hour blasted the 
vitality of hope and stranded the bark of life upon 
the rocks of despair. Piteous, forlorn man, whose 
heart breathed with Dryden; 

“My soul lies hid in the shades of grief, 

Whence, like the bird of night, with half shut eyes 
She peeps and sickens at the sight of day.” 

When a man loves a woman so much that he for- 
gets all else in the world but her, his life and happi- 
ness are vibrating upon brittle threads, and a day, in 
the obscure future, is not distant, when Atropos will 
sunder them. Men have prayed for the grave to hide 
them from their sorrow and disappointment in conse- 
quence of* woman’s fickle ways. * An unkind word or 
act committed between those who have loved has no 
other meaning than treachery. The human heart — ' 
the harp that breathes in softest notes, the delicious 
strains of harmonious love — is the most delicate and 
sensitive organ in the entire system of man’s suscept- 
ible nature ; so when the velvet touch of woman’s 
hand is felt no more upon the fibrous cords set to con- 
genial love, there is a palling, a gloomy silence ; no 
other woman can enter the deserted sanctuary and 
reproduce what has been wasted upon the arid soil of 
another’s heartlessness : 

“Oh, woman, woman ! thou shouldst have few sins 
Of thine own to answer for ! Thou art the author 
Of such a book of follies in man, 

That it would need the tears of all the angels 
To blot the record out.” 

This was a dark, disconsolate hour to Norman 
Wellington in which his heart struggled for mastery 
over its own conviction. The time was near he 


228 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


thought when he would be forced to leave Rosedale. 
By to-morrow he felt Lois would be sorry that she 
had reconsidered her first ’decision and promise to 
meet him again — then all would be lost. He thought 
of Iris, wishing it were prudent for him to take his 
troubles to her for sympathy, and advice ; he felt 
that wherever he might go he could rely upon her 
friendship. 

Suddenly he was aroused from his sorrowful 
meditation by a light footstep ; turning his eyes to- 
wards the issuing sound, he saw the stately figure with 
the gleaming, pallid face, which he had seen the 
night before. For a moment he was seized with 
terror; but thinking how little he cared for life or 
death, he as suddenly recovered self-possession. She 
came very near him as she sang — lowly, in harmony 
with the night — full of solitude — and the ever mur- 
muring fountain : 

“O, take me in, a fellow mourner with thee; 

I’ll number groan for groan, and tear for tear, 

And when the fountains of thy eyes are dry, 

Mine shall supply the*etream and weep for both.”* 

When the soft trills of her musical voice were 
borne away on the whispering winds quietude reigned 
for a moment, and her sad voice echoed across the 
heart of her listener with sympathetic expression. 
There was a sad tone in the mournful refrain as it 
died away on the balmy breeze that awoke in bis soul 
a pathetic kinship. 

“May I inquire your name?” she said slowly as 
she sat down on the grass at his feet, a living shadow 
of woman’s despair. 

“Since you are no spirit from the other world, as 
some of us supposed, and, if your memory serves you 
well, you know my name,” he answered as he fast- 
ened his dark eyes on the pale blue of hers, while the 
moon showered her refulgent beams upon the un- 
veiled head. She hesitated a moment and then whis- 
pered : 

“She called you ‘Mr. Wellington,’ I believe.” 

He bowed his head and added : 


IS marriage a failure? 


229 

“I searched for you last night, but you eluded me 
quite artfully. I wanted to capture you to learn your 
business at Rosedale and who you were. Will you 
not now tell me?” 

“Yes,” she began softly ; “that is why I came to 
you to-night. But before I do, I want to make some 
inquiries of you. I hold in my bosom a secret of 
yours dearer than life to you ; but I believe you are a 
man of strong character, as is evidenced by my com- 
ing to you to-night. I want you to believe that in- 
tegrity will keep me from divulging your secret. Fate 
betrayed it into my possession, and whatever you may 
think of me, I certainly have too much of my former 
self left in me to meddle where I have no concern.” 

Norman bowed his head as if to thank her, and 
she continued : 

“Before I proceed, tell me your relationship to 
the man you call ‘Mr. Allen.’” 

He stated briefly his acquaintance and business 
relationship, concluding as follows : 

“As for Mrs. Allen, I had loved her two years be- 
fore you overheard me avow it in the summer house. 
Whatever may be your mission, for Mrs. Allen’s sake, 
I pray you keep our secret.” 

A sorrowful smile came over her face as she said : 

“You may trust me.” 

“I believe you,” he answered earnestly. 

“Now you want to know why I am here and for 
what?” Without waiting a reply she continued : “I 
am not what I was. Last night I was a mad demoness 
with murder in my heart. Don’t shrink from me, for 
I have a long, cruel story to tell you, and don’t judge 
me until you have heard it all. When I saw the man 
I came to kill my courage failed me ; he was in my 
power, for at sight of me he sickened with fear and 
fell helpless upon the ground ; suddenly there came 
over me a relaxation of the murderous intent that I 
had harbored in my heart for many years. The rapa- 
cious thirst of a vengeful spirit left me, and my grip 
enervated upon the valued knife I premeditatedly 
planned to bury in the villain’s heart.” 


230 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


“What had Mr. Allen done to you that you would 
take such a revenge? You are certainly mad,” he in- 
terrupted with strong emphasis. 

“Stay thy judgment,” she exclaimed as she raised 
her hands pleadingly ; “you are yet blind ; when you 
have heard all I have to say you will then be more 
competent to say who I am — whether a ghost, or a 
mad woman. I am a wronged, wretched woman ! 
The woman you love is no wife, nor ever has been. 
I am the legal and rightful wife of Martin, the das- 
tard who calls himself Richard Allen.” 

“These are bold assertions you are making unless 
you have the positive proofs to establish them as facts. 
Where do you live?” again interrupted Norman, feel- 
ing enough interest to investigate. 

“I am a native of New Orleans. When I mar- 
ried, twelve years ago, I was a wealthy heiress ; after 
two years of unhappy association with Martin he 
abandoned me, stealing every dollar of my available 
money. I would not have cared — would rather have 
rejoiced at his going — if he had made even an equal 
division of my property ; but he robbed me, taking 
all the ready means, the fiend ! the double villain ! 
even these knavish epithets are too mild to express 
the true depravity of his heart. I was proud — loved 
money and society — and when I found that my im- 
mense wealth had been appropriated by a vagrant, 
fugitive husband, I almost lost control of reason, and 
swore by the heavens and earth I would have revenge; 
I never broke that determinative oath until last night. 
I am satisfied now. I do not contemplate seeking 
him farther. He has seen me ; he knows that I know 
of his vile treachery ; I am going away to let him rest 
in peace — if his conscience will permit it. Those 
womanly instincts of virtue and modesty have re- 
turned to me, and I feel in a degree as I did in the 
earlier days of my life. But, Mr. Wellington, excuse 
my frankness, I could not leave this beantiful spot 
without making a confession of these things to you.” 

“Do you expect me to believe these statements 
upon your bare assertion ? Allen a bigamist, an im- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


231 

postef, a dare-devil land pirate — preposterous!” he 
broke in excitedly. 

‘‘Mr. Wellington, do you take all I have said in 
the sincerity of a wretched, desolate woman’s nature, 
to be a base lie — a slanderous fabrication?” She 
paused for a reply. 

“No,” he said slowly. “I*am half inclined to be- 
lieve you ; only I must be cautious. But it is asking 
too much of me, or any one else, to accept the bare 
statement of a stranger without something tangible 
to corroborate it.” 

“That I have, which I will show you before we 
part to-night,” she asserted as she thrust her hand into 
her bosom and drew out a small dirk knife made of 
finest Damascus steel. She held it up in the moon- 
light as she added: “Why should I have come a 
thousand miles and daily examined this blade just to 
slander him?” 

Norman felt a cold chill shudder through him in 
spite of the confidence she liad inspired. He asked: 

“How long had you known Martin when you 
married him ?” 

“For over two years,” she answered promptly. 

“Then you do not know that Martin is his true 
name?” 

Meditating a few moments before replying, she 
said : 

“I do not. He was never very communicative 
about his past. I don’t think he ever made reference 
to his early life during our association,” 

“Where do you propose going when you leave 
here?” he asked cautiously. 

“I am going home,” she replied curtly. 

“Where do you get the money to defray your ex- 
penses and to keep your person adorned in such ele- 
gance?” trying to convince himself beyond any doubt 
that her mind was lucid, thus Norman questioned her. 

She answered as if discerning his motive : 

“I had several thousand dollars of entailed prop- 
erty which belongs to me during my life, and I live 


332 IS MARRIAGE A' FAILURE ? 

very handsomely upon the benefits which accrue from 
it annually.” 

He believed, in spite of a strong inclination to 
disbelieve, that her statements werp credible ; how- 
ever, he thought it would be best to detain her until 
morning, that he could see her in daylight and learn 
more definitely if her story were true. This was a 
question which concerned Lois, and whatever con- 
cerned her was of vast importance to him. He dis- 
cussed in his own mind whether he should tell her of 
this night. Since he had known her his heart’s secrets 
had been an open book for her perusal ; but this, he 
decided, must be kept from her. If she knew it, her 
happiness would be hopelessly destroyed. He almost 
wished he had never heard the story of this woman’s 
broken heart; its cries for pity awoke the tenderest 
sympathy, and its peals for revenge were as loud as 
enraged Nemesis could make it; he could never again 
have that respect for Richard Allen which had char- 
acterized his former conduct toward him. 

“What is it that troubles you?” asked the ^ad 
voice, breaking into his meditations. 

“Nothing of much importance ; but how came 
you to trace Mr. Allen to this place?” He spoke 
without raising his head, wondering what would be 
her reply. 

“I did not trace him to this place,” she began. 
“After watching and searching for him for some time 
I gave up in despair and quieted myself down at 
home to pass the rest of my life in bitter regret. But 
suddenly I received private information, through an 
old friend of mine who was traveling salesman for a 
leading grocery firm of New Orleans, that he had seen 
Mr. Martin in Nashville, Tennessee ; that he was in- 
terested in a banking firm and was universally known 
as Richard Allen. This again rekindled the old fire 
of revenge and hatred, and I suddenly disappeared 
from New Orleans to appear for the first time in 
Nashville. At the Nicholson Hotel I learned of Rose- 
dale as his home, that he was married and absent from 
the city. I never was thoroughly satisfied that the 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


233 


two names represented the same person until I saw in 
the library a life-size picture which I immediately 
recognized as my husband’s. Before leaving home I 
wrote him a letter stating that I had at last found 
him and not to be surprised to see me at any time ; 
but I withheld the main purpose of my visit.” 

Her voice mellowed until it was in harmony with 
the softness and solitude of night. 

“Did you ever love him?” asked Norman in the 
same tone. 

“Love him? No, sir!” she asserted, a little mor- 
tified at the unexpected interrogation. “I married 
him, but I did not love him. I married him because 
he was eloquent in speech and purported himself to 
be quite wealthy. Like most proud, ambitious girls, 
I wanted to marry rich. This is the sad consequence 
of it all.” 

“Do you think you can go home satisfied now, 
and that Mr. Allen’s life will not be in further danger 
from you?” he again interrogated. 

“Most assuredly I can,” she said with a great deal 
of emphasis. “I have too much heart to murder any 
one, though they filch from me everything which 
makes life dear. No, sir ; my heart has returned to 
that consciousness which will act as an ark of safety 
against all the crimes I have conceived since these 
troubles came. But do you contemplate giving pub- 
licity to what you have heard to-night and bringing 
the marauders into a court of justice.” 

“Are you willing?” 

“I have no objection if you think it your duty.” 

‘^At first,” he resumed, “I was very much unde- 
cided, but taking all things into consideration it will 
be for the best to keep it a secret.” 

“I divine your motive,” she responded with a 
woman’s acute sense of reading a man’s thoughts. “It 
is for Mrs. Allen’s sake ; you would shield her name. 
If Martin could be detected in his fraud she would be 
free to wed with you. There are some queer things 
hidden under life’s surface, and the best of us often 
play a conspicuous part in the drama.” 


234 


IS MARRIAGET A FAILURE? 


“Oh, well, I can’t tell you about all these things. 
It is for Mrs. Allen’s sake that I prefer it being with- 
held from the public. It is true, if your statements 
can be proven, that she is not married ; she then would 
have a perfect right to marry her choice. I do not 
now propose to defend myself for loving Lois Allen 
or to reconcile conscience with any ethical code that 
governs society. I love her and that is all of it. I 
have striven with the strength of my conscientious 
nature to turn aside the current of my feelings but 
without success.” 

“You enlisted my sympathies very much that night 
in the summer house, although I was furious with 
angry revenge — yet I must have had some of the love 
left in me.” She paused a moment as she drew from 
her bosom a small daguerreotype and a small parch- 
ment. Handing them to Norman she wistfully said : 

“Keep these until in the morning ; examine them; 
if after you have done so you wish to see me, call at 
the Nicholson House any time before six o’clock, p. 
m., to-morrow, for Anna Martin.” 

Norman placed the little bundle in his pocket ; ob- 
serving she was preparing to take her departure, he 
said : 

“And this is the end of the ghost story ?” 

“Yes;” she smiled, adding, “I am ashamed of 
my conduct ; it was the demon in me. Mr. Welling- 
ton, if the time ever comes when you need me, you 
will find my address on the paper I gave you. Write 
to me and I will act promptly in concert with your 
instructions.” 

“I will see you again to-morrow,” interrupted 
Norman. 

But before the sound of his words was fully gone, 
a pistol shot rang out on the still air of night — a hiss- 
ing ball passed dangerously close to his ear, lodging in 
the beautiful forehead of Anna Martin. She prayer- 
fully exclaimed as she fell dead upon the green 
grass, “My God ! take care of my soul ! He has mur- 
dered me!” 

Poor wronged woman ! She was no more upon 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 235 

this earth. Norman, stunned and shocked by the whiz- 
zing ball and loud report, lost his self possession for a 
moment ; but he turned in the direction from whence 
the sound issued, in time to see a retreating figure 
whom he recognized. Astonished and horrified he 
bowed over the form of the unfortunate woman, and 
examined for a symptom of life, as he thought to him- 
self : 

“Whatever sins I may believe Allen guilty of, I 
never thought he would have dyed his hands in ruth- 
less murder. What crimes live beneath the smiling 
countenance of man, thriving best where hypocrisy is 
most skillfully laid. Horrible midnight murder ! It 
is thus that man, in trying to cover the past, goes 
from one stage of desperation to another until over- 
taken by the tragedy of discovery.” 

From that moment hence Norman Wellington be- 
lieved all the poor victim had told him. There was 
not a deed in the annals of crime more inhuman than 
this one. He knelt down at the side of the dead woman. 
“What must I do now,” he queried to himself. “Must 
I make a statement of the facts to the authorities and 
let them act upon it? No, I will not do that. There 
is Lois, poor love of my heart ! What will become of 
her? I can never do anything that will involve her 
fair name. No, Allen, you can go unhung if I am the 
only witness against you. I will sacrifice all for your 
wife’s sake, but how am I to explain it all? * Ah ! now 
I know. I will satisfy the public by stating she was 
a mad woman; when I was. passing by the fountain 
we met, and while in conversation with me some one 
shot her. Will this explain it?” 

Duped and trusting man ! While he was there 
beside the dead woman trying to devise a false- 
hood in order to keep from implicating Richard Allen; 
a plot as selfish and nefarious as a human demon 
could make it, was being consummated against him. 
Whenever a man or woman surrenders all in their 
power for the benefit of another, the time is not far 
away when it will return unto them as cruel ingrati- 
tude. 


236 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

Just as Norman was preparing to return to the 
house and tell what had happened, he saw Mr. Allen 
with several of the farm men coming toward him. 
“What does all this mean?” he asked himself, as they 
drew nearer. 

“What is the matter here, Wellington?” inquired 
Mr. Allen, as he walked near the dead form, his face 
covered with a pale, dangerous expression. 

“There has been a woman shot,” responded Nor- 
man, as he looked straight into the guilty man’s face. 

Richard Allen did not h^ve the courage to meet 
the bold, penetrating scrutiny of that look. The 
question he asked Norman was a base, empty one, and 
resounded back into his soul with frightful terror. 
The farm laborers who had accompanied him, eyed 
Norman with a curious and suspicious air. They — 
after having their minds prepared by Mr. Allen — 
thought he looked very mean, and could plainly depict 
on his countenance unmistakable evidence of his guilt. 

“Mr. Wellington,” said Mr. Allen, “it seems you 
propose being a little reticent, upon this subject. 
“Men,” turning to his employes, one of whom was an 
officer, “take the scoundrel and bind him. I’ll have 
him put where he will.be forced to talk.” 

Norman stepped back as he said : 

“Mr. Allen, I demand of you an explanation of 
these proceedings.” 

“Whjr demand that when the cause is before you. 
These men understand what you have done. You 
have betrayed this woman and novv murdered her,” 
scowled the recreant murderer. 

“This is a monstrous fabrication,” reiterated Nor- 
man with a great deal of assurance. 

This was a very trying moment to him. In one 
sentence he could have named the true murderer ; in 
one sentence he could have named the true cause ; in 
one sentence he could have justified himself. But be- 
tween that sentence and his exoneration rose the fair 
and lovely form of Lois. If death — even worse — if 
disgrace came he would protect her with sealed lips. 
Richard Allen could do as he pleased he would never 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? ::J37 

utter one word to turn the tide of suspicion. 

The officer stepped to his side and said with pre- 
sumption ; 

“Mr. Wellington, you may consider yourself un- 
der arrest upon the charge of having caused this wo- 
man’s death.” 

‘T deny the charge,” Norman affirmed. 

“Do you mean to say that you are going to resist 
the law !” returned the constable with some will of 
dignity. 

“I mean the law makes no demands upon me,” he 
answered, as he saw three deputized men coming to 
the officer’s relief. In a moment these rough yeomen 
threw him upon the ground and bound him hand and 
foot. 

He did not make a struggle to free himself, but 
submitted to his fate with all the meekness of con- 
scious innocence. He at once realized his situation ; 
he knew unless he made a plain, unequivocal state- 
ment of this night’s work he could never absolve him- 
self from the charges that overshadowed him. To do 
this would fasten the crime upon Mr. Allen. Lois 
and Iris would detest and despise him above every- 
thing on earth as it was ; but better this than to bring 
infamy upon them; better to have entertained a guest 
in their house who proved to be a murderer, than a 
husband and brother whose deeds could never expiate 
the law except at the gallows. It was the immolation 
of self for another, and when he thought for whom 
this sacrifice was made he felt a sweet sense of pleas- 
ure. 

When the steel shackles were locked upon him, 
he hobbled to the chair where he was sitting when the 
ghostly appearance of Anna Martin aroused him from 
his meditation. From where he sat he could see every 
feature of her face. Death slept there, a monarch su- 
preme ; but he never reigned over beauty more se- 
rene. The moon played in its softest and lovliest 
sheen upon her golden head, surrounding it with an 
aureola of brilliancy. The death-marked cheeks 
gleamed like the petals of a calla lily when kissed by 


238 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

the showering moonbeams. A pitful, earnest prayer 
went from his lips to die ; he envied the peace which 
death had brought to the unconscious sleeper. His 
eyes filled with tears as he thought of the sad, 
irreparable history she had told him only a few min- 
utes ago. He raised his eyes as he heard the sound of 
a familiar voice. Iris and Lois were standing over 
the dead form. 

“Who has done this?” questioned Iris. 

“There is the criminal — your lordly Wellington ! 
See him?” sneered Allen. 

“What you said this evening was not true?” Lois 
spoke with a sad expression on her face. 

“That and more,” he said with a cold, bitter ac- 
cent. 

Lois pressed her hands closely to her breast as a 
low wail of agony escaped from her troubled heart. 
She never thought to question the statement her hus- 
band had made. “It is all true,” she repeated to her- 
self. “I had felt overjoyful since our conversation to- 
night. Somehow I believed — I almost know he is the 
one I used to call brother in the far-off days of child- 
hood. Ah ! how much I loved him then. But oh ! if 
he is guilty of this crime he must never know that I 
recognized him. I know he doesn’t suspect it. Then 
the question came to her, “Did she love him now?” 
She tried to evade it but it would meet her with stub- 
born insolence. It was a question of love and pride 
— a real question. 

“Yes, I love him, but to go to him, confess and 
express my sympathy will be of no advantage. But 
heaven grant he may evade the execution of the law !” 
Such were Lois Allen’s reflections on this eventful 
night when Norman’s heart never called for sympathy 
more pathetically. She often looked toward him as 
he sat speechless in the shackles of humiliation ; she 
always found his burning eyes fixed upon her, but she 
kept near her husband. 

“Iris came and knelt at his side, and when , the 
guards were out of hearing she questioned earnestly, 
tears of sympathy pouring over her face: 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 239 

“Mr. Wellington, tell me the truth ; by all that 
is sacred, speak it. Are the charges brought against 
you true?” 

“Iris,” he said very low, “it is every word a base 
lie. Do you believe me?” 

She replied as she took a seat at his side : 

“I believe you ; but tell me what brought this 
mysterious woman to Rosedale?” 

“I feel that you are the the only real friend I have, 
and if you do not believe me, who will? I did not kill 
this woman, nor did I ever speak to her until to-night. 
They will after the preliminary trial consign me to jail. 
You see circumstantial evidence will be against me. 
Now please don’t ask me any more — only trust me.” 

“I will,” she said, as she looked at Lois. 

Just at that moment Mr. Allefi announced that 
the carriage was coming up the drive. Turning to 
the officers he added ; 

“Keep a d — 1 of a close watch upon that villian 
to-night.” 

“Mr. Allen, you are not going to send him away 
to-night, are you?” interposed Lois. 

“Yes, madam, that is where he belongs, and that 
is where he is going,” answered her husband. 

“Iris,” whispered Norman, “for my sake have the 
remains of this poor woman interred at Elmwo’od. 
Order it done nicely and draw a ^heck on the First 
National Bank in my name to defray expenses,” he 
added, as the men came nearer him. “Say to Mrs. 
Allen ‘good-bye’ for me.” 

Iris promised, and in another moment the carriage 
was drawn rapidly away, bearing an innocent sufferer 
to the city. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


IN PRISON. 

The)^ say this is a dwelling of distress, 

The very mansion house of misery ! . 

To me, alas ! it seems but just the same 

With that more spacious jail — the bus}’’ world. 

’ ris done ! I saw it in my dreams ; 

No more with hope the future beams. 

My days of happiness are few ; 

Chilled by misfortune’s wintry blast, 

My dawn of life is overcast. 

Love, hope and joy, alike adieu ; 

Would I could add remembrance, too. 

Lois possessed naturally a very tender nature, yet, 
during the storms of grief which had bombarded her 
heart, it had been hardened with misery until the lin- 
eaments of her face were drawn \\ ith the cold iciness 
6f pride, and there dwelt nowhere in her heart that 
tenderness compatible with her nature. So upon this 
occasion, after Norman had been taken to the city for 
safe keeping, she was erect — the indomitable monu- 
ment of pride and disguised sorrow. She came up to 
the kneeling figure of her sister and placed her hand 
upon her head with an empty word of consolation. 

“There are no words or entreaties which can con- 
sole me now. Lois, your position is one that should 
arouse the sympathy of every Christian in America,” re- 
plied Iris, as she moved the death encumbered hand of 
the dead sleeper and placed it upon the breathless 
form. 

“Well, Iris,” Lois began pleadingly, “your tears 
will not undo the past or render the future more en- 
durable. Then why this unnecessary grief?” 

“Lois,” interrupted Iris, speaking in a tone not 
audible to Mr. Allen and his men who had clustered 
together a few yards from the fountain, “unlike your- 
self, I have a loyal, true heart ; unlike yourself I love 
principle and unshaken devotion to the sealed prom- 
ises of the heart. I know your relationship to Norman 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ? 


241 

Wellington ; he loves you as he does hiso'svn life^and 
you have made him believe that you returned it. But 
now when he most needs sympathy, and encourage- 
ment from those he loves, you, traitorous and cold, 
keep your lips sealed while h'e is bound and sent to 
jail under false charges without judge or jury.” 

“What you say is true, but under the existing cir- 
cumstances who would not say that I have acted sen- 
sibly. If I have been deceived in Mr. Wellington, or 
even should I admit that I still love him, with this 
stigma upon his character what law of society de- 
mands of me to administer my sympathy.?” 

“Just as I had feared,” answered Iris, “You still 
love Mr. Wellington, but your nature is so shallow 
that love cannot take deep root, and pride for a time 
crushes it. Under auspicious circumstances your love 
is heart-absorbing ; but under trials and troubles, hav- 
ing an eye upon your own happiness, it, like water in 
the sun, evaporates and invisibly goes away. Lois, 
when a woman forgets all in the world but herself, 
she can never make a good man happy. You have 
ruined — you haye forever blasted Norman Welling- 
ton’s life. As he is being conveyed to jail to-night, 
the sorrow that lies closest to his heart is not this mur- 
der as you so willingly suppose, but it is your heart- 
less indifference.” 

“I am sorry that I have been so cruel to your 
friend while he rests under this dark suspicion,” re- 
sponded Lois, sarcastically. 

<‘The truth, Lois, is your pride and inordinate sel- 
fishness overbalances your sympathy.” 

“Have I a right to feel sympathy for a criminal.? 
When he is exonerated from these charges, if ever, 

I shall tender him all I conceive to be due him ; — ” 

Here Iris again interrupted, “you certainly 
have never entertained a doubt as to his innocence.?” 

“Most certainly I have. When Mr. Allen said he 
saw, with his own eyes, Mr, Wellington fire the pistol 
and overheard a conversation between them, which 
will be ample testimony to convict him, why should I 
not doubt.?” retorted Lois, angrily, forgetting for the 


242 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

time the tender and endearing feeling which her heart 
still insisted upon entertaining for the accused man. 

“I am astonished at you after what I have heard 
to-night. Have you that narrowness and contraction 
of heart to permit your mind to drift in the same line 
of thought with your husband, and form opinions 
based upon his statements.” 

“You speak of my husband in a most disrespect- 
ful manner ; as far as the external grounds for accept- 
ing a statement from him at par with the truth they 
are certainly as favorable as those which support Mr. 
Wellington’s integrity. Mr. Allen has unbounded 
confidence in the genuineness of his conversion while 
Mr. Wellington denies the divinity of Christ — even 
his oath is not admissible in court.” 

“I beg your pardon, Lois, for having referred to 
your husband in the manner I did. But I want to say 
some few things in which I will incur your disappro- 
bation, but let that be as it may, I will perform my 
duty ; you must know that Norman has materially mod- 
fied his views upon man’s final destiny. The fact that 
he disagrees with you on certain religious dogmas by 
no means impeach his integrity or sincerity. We 
are commanded not to judge men but to bear with 
their faults. The law that invalidates a man’s testi- 
mony because of his disbelief in certain orthodox the- 
ories, is an infringement upon American liberties ; it 
has the taint of religious bigotry about it. Lois, I love 
you very tenderly ; if it were not so our estrangement 
would have taken place long since. I will be frank 
with you. I have very serious doubts as to the worth- 
iness of your husband. I heard him assert this morn- 
ing, ‘that if God should call upon him for his soul, he 
could fold his arms in perfect peace and yield — with- 
out a regret — his life into the hands of eternity.’ Lois, 
this is the best indication of a totally depraved heart, 
a conscience seared and ripened in its own wicked- 
ness. An active, living Christian always has a very 
acute conscience, admiring that which is good and 
abhorring that which is evil ; but when a man’s heart 
is too dull to listen to the voice of doubt, his soul has 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 243 

Reached the hopeless and incorrigible state. Believe 
me, and if possible do not think it unkind, but Nor- 
man never murdered this poor, unfortunate woman. 
If her icy lips could but flush- with life long enough to 
name her murderer, I am sure they would whisper 
“Richard Allen!” 

“Iris, I cannot listen to this tirade longer. You 
are unfair, unjust to criminate him. Were you not 
my only sister I would not tolerate it.” 

“Why are you women still here? Retire at once 
to the house where you belong,” said Mr. Allen, ab- 
ruptly. 

“I would like to have your men prepare a way 
and take this dead woman to the house ; we want to 
dress her for burial,” replied Iris, ignoring the com- 
mand. 

“Never mind about her ; we will dig a hole some- 
where and bury her without your intervention,” ejac- 
ulated Mr. Allen. 

“Oh no ! please, Mr. Allen,” interposed Lois, a 
little touched by the cruel remark. 

“It is at Mr. Wellington’s request that I desire to 
take charge of the body,” said Iris. 

“The coroner left the body in my possession — 
what did Wellington say about it?” inquired Mr. 
Allen sharply. 

“He requested me to have her decently buried at 
Elmwood, and that he would defray all expenses,” 
she answered. 

“Another link in the chain of evidence which 
will hang the scoundrel,” asserted Allen with a cyni- 
cal laugh. 

“I see nothing in it at all more than a common 
love for humanity, and a fear, if the burial was left to 
others, it might be indecently done,” declared Iris, 
trying to control her feelings. 

“You and Lois go to the house. I will attend to 
it all,” commanded Mr. Allen peremptorily. 

Lois turned her erect, imperious figure in tacit 
obedience, but her obstinate sister did not move. 

“Do you defy me ?” he demanded abruptly. 


244 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


“No, sir ; but I mean to superintend the inter- 
ment of this body. I promised that I would and, un- 
less prevented by force, I will, in defiance to your 
wish,” she said emphatically. 

Richard Allen, though almost furious with rage, 
did not wish an altercation with his sister-in-law ; 
thinking it not the best policy for him to interfere 
farther, he turned and walked away. Iris ordered 
some of the men to carry the dead body to the house, 
where she robed it in burial costume. The next morn- 
ing the poor unfortunate, unknown woman was buried 
according to Norman’s instructions. There was no 
further interference on the part of Mr. Allen. He 
spent the morning discussing the guilty appearance of 
Norman when they arrested him, saying it was quite 
bold for him to confess complicity in the crime 
after such a bitter denial. 

“How has he confessed it?” they asked in aston- 
ishment. 

“He has not confessed in so many words, but he 
has to my mind very strongly implied his guilt. What 
does it mean that he should have this strange, doubt- 
less unworthy woman, buried among the sacred vines 
of his own family cemetery, and at his own expense?” 

The listening crowd laughed as the idea dawned 
upon their stupid minds. Mr. Allen decided to con- 
vict Norman of murder if it cost him half his fortune. 

“If men their oaths would sell. 

He would buy them at the risk of hell.” 

This he considered the crowning climax of his 
life. If he succeeded now, the past would no longer 
trouble him; his future, he felt, to some extent de- 
pended upon prompt and accurate work. He never 
stopped to question the nature and extent of his 
crime ; this was a secondary consideration. The full 
consummation of his plans was the prime object of 
the new, bold and daring assumption. 

The news came that Norman had been incarcer- 
ated in a murderer’s cell ; that the populace were in- 
dignant over the cowardly crime. The papers stated: 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 245 

'‘'‘Another scoundrel unearthedP “ Woman's trust 
and mail's duplicity “Norman Wellington, well 
known to the business circles of Nashville, proves a 
villain and betrays a woman. She follows him here 
and meets her death at his hands. The murderer now 
rests behind iron bars, where he awaits the vengeance 
of outraged justice.” 

Mr. Allen rejoiced in these reports ; they would 
have a tendency to prejudice the people against Nor- 
man, and under such circumstances it would be hard 
to find a jury that would acquit him. He rushed into 
the house and found Lois and Iris in the library 
wrapt in the solemnity of bitter reflection ; hurriedly 
throwing the morning paper at Iris, he said : 

“What do you think of your paragon now?” 

Loisv had not raised her eyes from the book which 
she pretended to read ; her proud heart, deaf to the 
cries of sympathy, remained unmoved, while an in- 
approachable expression of iciness relieved her face of 
its usual softness, transforming its cheerfulness into a 
beautiful picture, over which lay a deep shadow of 
gloom. 

Iris hurriedly ran over the head lines ; pushing 
the paper aside, she said : 

“It is every word a lie !” 

“I am perfectly willing that you have your own 
opinion. I have always heard that a woman was 
h — 1 after her own way,” he said as he left the house. 

As soon as he disappeared from the door Lois 
silently reached out her hand for the paper ; having 
read the column devoted to Norman she let it fall up- 
on the carpet at her feet, folded her hands upon her 
breast and sat in motionless meditation. 

“Lois,” asked Iris, “what do you think of the 
state of affairs at present ?” 

“Why do you ask me?” she replied coldly. 

“Do you feel no concern in this matter?” 

“If I do, what good can accrue from it? My- 
self is of infinitely more importance to me than what 
little pleasure I might bring to others by words of 
sympathy. I presume I am equally as anxious as yo 


246 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE ^ 

that Mr. Wellington will yet escape the punishment 
consequent upon these charges. But while the whole 
country is enraged against him am I going to jeopar- 
dize my standing in society by a voluntary confession 
of my belief in his innocence.? If the opinion touch- 
ing his guilt was not so universal, then my avowal of 
the same might be pardonable ; but under the cir- 
cumstances I shall live within my sorrows, the secret 
of my belief and feelings exclusively my own, I am 
a wife and must stay within a wife’s place. I would 
not forfeit the respect of my husband and society for 
all the honor and love you can instill into a human 
heart.” 

“I presume, Lois, we have discussed this subject 
enough. Although you are my sister, Norman Well- 
ington is a far better man than you are a woman. I 
overheard every word of your conversation a few 
nights since, and from that I am able to draw a cor- 
rect conclusion. I am satisfied if Norman had given 
you the same cause for complaint you would have de- 
nounced him ere these dark shadows had fallen across 
our lives.” 

“Do not say anything more about it. I am get- 
ting tired of your advice,” interrupted Lois with a 
graceful motion of her hand. 

“Yes ; I have a few more words to say, and then 
I will stop. Yesterday morning when Norman left, 
his last words to me were, ‘Say good bye to Mrs. Al- 
len.’ I am going to Nashville to-morrow, and if the 
authorities will permit me I will see him,” said Iris, 
sorrowfully. 

“Tears involuntarily filled Lois’ eyes and would 
have rolled down her cheeks, but she brushed them 
away. In her heart she was glad to know that he 
thought of her last, but her cold, resolute will was too 
stubborn to confess it. She hesitated a moment be- 
fore commenting on her sister’s words, then she said: 

“You have a right to do as you please. T am sure 
you are of age and this is a free country. 

She did not want Iris to do what she would not 
dare herself. While she had fully resolved to throw 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 247 

Norman over to the winds it rather stung her when 
she thought of his loving some one else; yet she felt 
if Iris visited him at the jail his preference would be- 
come irrevocable. These thoughts troubled the seem- 
ingly resigned woman in spite of all her imperious- 
ness. She reasoned with herself that these disturbing 
thoughts grew out of the impropriety of Iris making 
a visit to the jail to see a prisoner. What would the 
world say of such an act? 

The day wore slowly by. Next morning Iris arose 
early, and softly entered her sister’s apartment. She 
looked at the sleeping form with rapturous admiration. 
Lois’ head, half buried in the white, downy pillow, 
was slightly turned on the left cheek, while her body 
in its smooth, rich plentitude, and undulating form, 
lay imperfectly concealed beneath the rumpled and 
angular folds of a summer quilt. “Had God ever done 
more for perfecting physical beauty,” she thought, as 
she sat down on the bedside with her knees crossed in 
reflective comparison. “She is a beautiful woman and 
I am slightly her inferior,” her thoughts ran, then she 
sank into a deeper and prolonged meditation. “I 
ought to marry ; other women do who are far less 
beautiful than I. It would be better to be an unloved 
wife than to live an old maid — the refuse of man’s 
fancy; nor can I bear the privacy and exclusiveness of 
a nunnery, where this natural curiousness and longing 
ambition would continue a ceaseless regret. A wife- 
hood is but the courted sequel to maidenhood ; it is 
the only avenue open for woman’s replete gratific^ 
tion and contentment. Marriage, an institution as old 
as our ancestry in the edenic garden, has a sacred 
claim and charm upon every budding maiden, and she 
looks with unfading hope to the sweet realization of 
its blended mysteries. Yes, like all my sex, I abhor 
celebacy. Young women only act when they leave 
the world behind and enter the cloister; disappointed 
love and blighted hopes drive them to such despera- 
tion. Even the pious sister in her regulation dress is 
attracted by the pageantry of the world, and a linger- 
ing wish revives in her placid bosom to throw off the 



IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE 


8h« Slipped Her Arms Around Her as Their Hands Clasped Affectionately, 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


249 

saintly thraldom and take her place by the side of 
man as God has directed But why do I poison my 
mind with these wild visions, for this delightful change 
will not come. Raymond will never return, and Nor- 
man — ” 

At the mention of his name she suddenly ended 
her meditations by rising from her seat and arranging 
the disordered quilt over Lois. The sleeper opened 
her eyes and said : 

“What are you doing, Iris?” 

“I only came to tell you good bye before I went 
to see Norman.” 

“Sit down by me,” Lois commanded. 

Iris obeyed. She slipped her arms around her as 
their hands clasped affectionately. “How long will 
you be away?” she continued, as she looked anxiously 
into her sister’s face. “I will be lonely while you are 
gone.” , 

“Not long,” she answered gently. 

“Do you think it wise to go?” 

“I had not thought on that side of the matter. If 
it will only be of cheer to him my reward will be am- 
ple.” 

“You are devoted,” she said, painfully. 

“Not more so than duty demands,” she replied, 
firmly. 

‘‘Go, but return as soon as you can.” 

“Do you send any message? He will inquire of 
you.” 

She drew her sister’s lips to hers and kissed them 
lovingly, and then turned her face sadly and tearfully 
to the wall without replying. Iris bade her good bye 
and departed for the jail. It was only an hour’s drive. 
Obtaining a permit from the authorities, she was soon 
conducted to the cell where Norman was confined. It 
was a dismal, miserable place, she thought; as her 
he^rt gave a deep shudder at the clang of the iron door 
as it closed behind her. 

This was the third day of Norman’s prisqn life. 
He had become wholly resigned to his fate, let that be 
what it might. In the confusion of anticipation he 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


250 

remembered the time when he entertained Richard 
Allen in his store, and more distinctly the remark 
which one of his clerks made in reference to him. 
Oh ! how many hours of regret and repentance would 
have been spared him could he have but analyzed the 
wretch in the form of man on that morning ; but alas ! 
too late ! too late ! He had waited too long ; now his 
innocent name was covered with calumny. 

It lay within his power to wash his name from 
this slander and show to the world that he was an in- 
nocent man ; but oh ! what would be the terrible, the 
horrible consequence? Ruin and misery to another 
— his beloved Lois. No, he would rather suffer the 
mortification of disgrace and the agony of death a 
thousand times than humiliate her proud heart for one 
moment. Could he have known the condition and 
feeling of Lois’ heart with reference to him, there 
would have been no change in his action. The rays 
of love which constantly emanated from his heart’s 
throne were as invincible to his understanding as is 
the steel scimitar of time that plows irresistibly 
through the world every second in the day. No in- 
difference on her part could ever change him. 

On this morning a copy of Byron and the Bible 
lay at his side. The jailor had procured them for him. 
He had read the “Prisoner of Chillon,” and “The 
Dream.” These were the first two poems he had read 
with Lois. In the first hours of their association she 
had read them to him. Now, when he was alone, 
buried from the worl^ of freedom and pleasure, he 
kept reproducing the sounds — “The Prisoner of Chil- 
lon.” The circumstances existing between Byron’s 
prisoner and himself were unlike, yet they both were 
chained in a felon’s cell. 

The time when Lois read “The Dream” to him 
was one of the happiest hours hi his history. Even in 
his dark, gloomy prison, where the light of day never 
shone, or gay laughter ever heard, it was pleasant to 
recall that time. It was near sunset ; they were in the 
library ; he was reclining on the sofa by the west win- 
dow ; she drew her chair close to him as she said, 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


251 

“Here is a poem — ‘The Dream.’ I was reading it last 
night, and so forcible was the impression it made up- 
on me that I want to ask the privilege of reading it to 
you.” He had remembered every word she said to 
him. • How breathless he had listened to the clear 
notes of her flexible voice. It was an evening of su- 
preme happiness >to him. He had thought how true, 
how irrevocable must be her love. Their lives almost 
reproduced the sentiment of “The Dream,” and yet 
she had chosen this way in which to make known the 
exhaustless fountain of her love. The last verse had 
been indelibly impressed upon his mind : ' 

“My dream was past, it had no further change. 

It was of a strange order, that the doom 
Of these two creatures should be thus traced out 
Almost like a reality — the one 
To end in madness— both in misery’” ^ 

Which one of them he had asked would “end in 
madness?” and now he repeated the query with double 
force — both had ended in miser5^,” but which should 
yield to madness. He prayed God that he might be 
the one. If it would meet the approbation of heaven 
he would bear every affliction intended for her. He 
had been reading the Bible studiously since his incar- 
ceration. This morning he came to a passage which 
fllled his heart with that peace which passeth under- 
standing. Thus he read : “Blessed is the man that 
endureth temptation ; for when he’is tried he shall re- 
ceive the crown of life which the Lord hath promised 
them that love Him.” “For the sun is no sooner risen 
with a burning heat but it withereth the grass and the 
flower thereof falleth, and the grace of the fashion of 
it perisheth ; so, also, shall the rich man fade away in 
his ways.” 

Norman was pondering over these observations of 
James when Iris was announced. “So, also, shall the 
rich man fade away in his ways,” he repeated slowly, 
as if to catch every idea conveyed. Better, he con- 
cluded, to lay up treasures in heaven that will not 
pass away, by enduring temptation. 

A voice as soft as an angel’s harp arrested 


252 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

his attention. He raised his sunken eyes to meet the 
half-troubled, half-glad face of Iris. He held the tips 
of his fingers out to her through the iron bars, as he 
said : 

“Iris, I am ashamed to see you. I have always 
entertained a lofty respect for my honor, and this is 
the last of it.” 

“Do not grieve yourself, Norman. I do not be- 
lieve you are guilty. I came to offer you. any assist- 
ance I may be able to render you,” she said, softly. 

“How is^rs. Allen?” he asked, 

“She is well.” 

“Does she believe me guilty?” he continued. 

“No, Norman ; she is satisfied you are innocent,” 
repeated Iris, as her heart filled with sorrow for the 
man who lavished his love upon a woman of Lois Al- 
len’s ingratitude. 

“Did you obey my request in burying the unfor- 
tunate woman?” • 

“Yes, to the letter ; but let us speak of yourself.” 

“I am hopelessly ruined,” he sighed. 

“Would you not like to have your name and lib- 
erty again,” she asked, as she nervously placed her 
eyes upon his face, 

“Yes, if it could be done without any one suffer- 
ing in my place.” 

Her face paled a' little as she noted the meaning 
of his reply. 

“What plans have you for your defense?^’ 

“None ; I have not even employed a lawyer,” he 
whispered, almost overcome with grief. 

Iris drew from a hand-pocket a small locket ; 
opening it she said : 

“Norman, I have never doubted your innocence ; 
but now I am satisfied that I know who is guilty. 
This locket I detached from the necklace which she 
wore around her neck. It contains the miniature of 
Richard Allen.” 

“Perhaps you are mistaken,” said Norman, with- 
out betraying the least surprise. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


253 

cally ^ mistaken,” she said, emphati- 

“Then you would accuse your brother-in-law of 
this heinous deed?” 

“Yes, I would. He is the one who did it, and he 
IS the one who should suffer for it,” she declared. 

“If he was convicted of this crime, what effect 
would it have upon Mrs. Allen?” he queried. 

“Of course it would mortify her very much/ but 
that is not the issue ; it is not right that the innocent 
should suffer for the guilty.” 

“But your supposition may be wrong,” he sug- 
gested. ■ ° 

“With the evidence I have it would be hard to 
convince a jury otherwise, and Norman, you know 
something which you have not yet confided to any 
one. Please give me all the evidence in your posses- 
sion.” 

“I will fully satisfy your mind upon one question, 
provided you make just such use of the evidence as I 
suggest.” 

She gave him her promise. He drew from a side 
pov'ket the picture of a man and woman on the same 
card and a parchment of writing. Placing them in 
her hand, he continued : 

“The lady who was killed, according to her own 
statement, was the wife of Mr. Allen. He married 
her under the name of Martin as the marriage certifi- 
cate will certify.” 

“That all seems to be true, but how came you in 
possession of these things?” interrupted Iris. 

“I was out in the grounds the night of the acci- 
dent. She came near where I was sitting and ad- 
dressed me. At first I was uneasy, but soon finding 
out she was sane I listened to her story. After stat- 
ing she was the wife of Martin whom she declared 
was Mr. Allen, she gave me this picture and marriage 
certificate. She said she came to this place with the 
determination of murdering him ; but when she saw 
him that morning her courage failed her and she fled 
from his presence.” 


254 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


“Have we any way to test the virtue of her asser- 
tions?” interposed Iris, “by writing to the parties who 
witnessed their marriage, I suppose.” 

“This will not be necessary. I am prepared to 
believe her statements upon the testimony already be- 
fore us.” 

“But how did she come to her death?” rejoined 
Iris, a little bewildered. 

“Just as she was preparing to take her departure 
some one shot. Immediately after the shot, as soon 
as I could recover from the shock, I looked in the 
direction from whence the sound issued and saw the 
fleeing figure of Richard Allen.” 

“And you knew all this on the night of your ar- 
rest?” she questioned. 

“Certainly,” he replied. 

^‘Then why didn’t you make it known?” 

“Because, as it is, I am the only sufferer *, on the 
other hand, if Mr. Allen was publicly exposed to 
these charges yourself and Mrs. Allen would suffer 
the consequences.” 

“It is for her sake that you are assuming the con- 
sequences of this crime?” she queried, more surprised 
now than she had ever been. 

“For you both,” he sighed. 

“When does your trial take place?” 

“I think I was advised this morning that it would 
take place on Monday,” he answered. 

“I am going’ to keep these papers, and on that 
day you shall be liberated from these bonds and an- 
other put in your place.” 

“No ! no ! for my sake, do not,” he protested. 

“Norman, you are a fool about Lois. She cares 
but little for you. Are you going to utterly wreck 
your life over this affair? When she is convinced of 
Mr. Allen’s guilt she will certainly not condemn you.” 

“Iris,” he began, “you promised to use this^evi- 
dence only as I might suggest. I do not want Mrs. 
Allen to ever learn the depth of her husband’s vil- 
lainy. Let me die in his stead ; there is no other dis- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


255 

position to be made of my life that I prefer to this 
one.” 

“Norman,” you are unjust to yourself. Lois 
would not permit this sacrifice if she knew it. But 
it is getting late, and I must hasten home. I will see 
you again the day of your trial.” She placed her 
small white hand through the iron grate as she said 
good-bye. 

“But, Iris,” he said, as he pressed her hand 
gently in his, “you have not promised me yet.” 

“Trust me, brother. I will do right by you,” she 
said as she drew her hand from his and walked toward 
the door, leaving the prisoner lonelier than he had 
ever been. All the horrors of a dungeon life rushed 
upon him, in one sad moment crushing to tears the 
happiest memories of the past. 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE TRIAL. 

My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, 

And every tongue brings in a several tale. 

And every tale condemns me for a villain. 

— Shakespeare. 

He withers at his heart aud looks as wan 
jAs the pale spectre of a murdered man. 

— Dry den. 

• Iris left the prison with a full determination to 
counteract Mr. Allen’s schemes regardless of what it 
might develop. There was a time when she would 
not have so readily believed Anna Martin’s story, but 
now she was prepared to think Mr. Allen the basest 
wretch on earth. This 'was a trying moment in her 
life. One side of the question was her sister’s future 
to be considered, and the thought struck her with full 
force : “Am I by one word to utterly destroy her 
domestic happiness and send her to a shameful 
grave?” On the other side, the principles of right and 
justice confronted her. All things being equal, she 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


256 

would be willing to sacrifice everything for Lois’ wel- 
fare; but under the present circumstances the voice 
of conscience was urging her out upon the path of 
duty. 

But still it was a most difficult matter to make a 
final decision. She knew with a conscientiousness 
and certainty as powerful as life itself what ought to 
be done; but was she the proper one (being a sister- 
in-law) to execute this work? No; she felt that she 
was not. Norman Wellington was the one who 
should introduce these charges and have Mr. Allen 
arrested upon them ; then she could come forward as 
a witness and produce the miniature and other cir- 
cumstantial proofs. Would Norman do this? No; 
not even for his own honor and life. She had tried 
him sufficiently. His heart was firmly planted upon 
the protection of Lois’ name and peace of heart. If 
she had the assistance and advice of some one she 
could trust ; but it was impossible. This secret she 
could never divulge or trust to another, even in hope 
of wise counsel. 

She discussed the question from every conceiva- 
ble standpoint, but each conclusion had its defects. 
There was no available position for her to take by 
which Norman could be exonerated without incrimi- 
nating Mr. Allen. One or the other must go down. 
Which must it be? Her heart filled with sadness and 
sorrow too painful to express, as she endeavored to 
dispose of the question in a way that would fully 
meet her approbation. The whole affair she 'felt 
hinged upon one thing, was it better to hazard the 
temporal and social interest of her only sister, or of 
her own free will let an innocent friend suffer a 
shameful death. In the midst of her struggle to cross 
the bridge of decision, and thereby arrive at a definite 
understanding with herself, Raymond Humphrey’s 
name was suggested. If he were but at home she 
would trust her sectet to him and risk all to his 
judgment. 

Since the evening on which Norman revealed to 
her the nature of Raymond’s and Lois’ conversation 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 257 

in the summer house, she had permitted her mind to 
dwen upon events connected with their life^iore than 
she had done before. Her heart was satisfied upon 
one point, which had often annoyed her— Raymond 
loved her ; he told Lois he did, and above all things, 
she could not believe him guilty of deception. This 
revelation brought that peace and contentment which 
succored her strength for the conflicts going on at 
Rosedale. When the present troubles were over she 
had decided to make an effort to learn of his where- 
abouts and, if possible, restore him to his friends. 
She felt this was very presumptuous and bold in her, 
yet on the other hand, she had ample reason to be- 
lieve he left Nashville under a mistaken idea, and 
that it was but her simple duty to correct the mistake. 
Though all the hatred and jealousy following the 
event had disappeared, when she thought of Lois’ 
silence, she could not refrain from censuring her. 
There are certain inherent rights which the inmost 
soul claims, and when not duly respected by friends 
and associates, prodvice a spontaneous desire for retri- 
bution ; however, if Iris had known the exact state 
of Lois’ li^e since that moment, and more especially 
immediately succeeding it, she would have been glad 
to have rescinded even this little resentment of her 
heart. 

As Iris drew near the gates which admitted her 
once more upon the beautiful premises she had so long 
called home, her heart grew sick and heavy with un- 
pleasant reverie. “Ah ! Lois, what a sad fate for us,” 
she said to herself. “How can we endure the pres- 
ence of this villain longer? I had a thousand times 
rather*be dead than to acknowledge him as your hus- 
band. My sister ; my unfortunate Lois, how did the 
pure instincts of your soul ever consent to many 
him? And what evil siren has lulled to sleep the 
voice of conscience while you have sustained the 
sacred intimacies of marriage? God forgive every 
unkind feeling I may have entertained for you, and 
substitute sympathy in its place. It is in my power 
to keep you in ignorance of your tru^ position and 


258 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

thus preserve your equanimity of feeling for a while 
longer, but your soul had as well awake from its slum- 
bering pillow of ignorance, and receive whatever 
punishment it has incurred, as to await the doom of 
eternity, when the hour of repentance will be hope- 
lessly past. 

“The sneers and scandalous gossip of society will 
not affect the true interest of your life ; they cannot 
keep you out of your immortal inheritance. When 
you are made aware of the true character of your 
husband, the finer sensibilities of your nature will re- 
volt with aroused indignation. Whatever you may 
have done in the past, I yet have too much confidence 
in your admiration of the intrinsically beautiful to 
believe you could confess allegiance to the man who 
would now be serving his time behind prison walls, 
were his deeds uncovered. But a still worse fate 
must meet your husband ; he is a murderer — heaven 
only knows what else — and ruin and death will ulti- 
mately come to him. O, God ! have mercy upon Lois, 
and when these truths burst upon her like a thunder- 
clap, sustain her with the strong arm of Thy power. 
I can never look upon his face or repeat his name 
again. Our association at least in this life is closed. 
If there is not some revolution of circumstances, I 
will bid a last adieu to Rosedale next week. I can- 
not remain under the same roof with him though an 
only sister entreats me.” 

When Iris entered the hall, not seeing any one, 
she proceeded to her room. If she had looked through 
the half closed door of the drawing-room she would 
have seen the stately figure of Lois standing near the 
north window, her eyes fixed intently upon, some 
trailing vines and flowers which grew out on the 
balcony, with thoughts far away from these material 
objects of floral beauty. Though she would not con- 
fess it, she was consuming her mind trying to devise 
means by which Mr. Wellington could escape the 
penalty of the law. She longed to do something for 
him which no one would ever find out ; if the world 
must know it she preferred to leave it undone. Her 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 259 

niind went back to the scene at the fountain, recalling 
vividly to the light of memory the reference which 
he made to his little sister. She pressed her liand to 
her aching bosom as she controlled the contending 
emotions within. Ah ! could it be after all, that he 
was the missing link in her life? She had often 
thought so, but had never mentioned it. Until a very 
recent date she was always so happy with him she 
never cared to change their relationshio. It was too 
late now ; soon he must die. At this thought her 
face paled until its imperiousness was softened into, 
tenderness ; but remembering her resolve, she walked 
away from the window, endeavoring to forget all but 
her own happiness. 

The days passed slowly, bringing no new de- 
velopments. The morning of the trial was at hand. 
Lois insisted on not going, but to give the matter an 
ultimatum Mr. Allen commanded that she should go, 
saying that her testimony was necessary to establish 
a very important fact in the chain of evidence. This 
was all her poor heart could bear. If Mr, Allen had 
seen Norman shoot the woman, that was enough proof 
to convict him, and she could not see the necessity of 
her evidence. In fact, she told herself she did not 
know anything corroborative of the charges. She did 
not feel that courage would be given her to testify 
against the man whom she had loved so passionately. 
All the slumbering fires of her soul had once been 
lighted by the torch of love for him, and the most de- 
lightful moments of her life were softened to un- 
speakable rapture while in his presence. His love had 
come like a beautiful dream and had vanished with- 
out leaving any consciousness of the moment in which 
it departed — though she was not fully convinced that 
it had ever been withdrawn. 

“I don’t believe I can possibly do this,” she 
whispered to herself. “It is exacting too much.” 
But she never made any complaint to her husband. 
After a long and painful contest with her own feel- 
ings, she decided that home life and home happiness 
were paramount in a woman’s life and that, rather 


26 o 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


than disregard her husband’s orders, she would go and 
bear witness to such things as had come under her 
observation. It would be a bitter moment in which 
she walked into the presence of Norman Wellington 
and opened her lips as a witness against him. She 
knew her words would be painfully received by him, 
but he had better endure the pain of wounded love 
than for her domestic happiness to be utterly destroyed. 

Thus Lois Allen reasoned with herself until she 
did not really know whether she still loved him or not. 
It was evident under moments of excitement she did 
not; but when none of the possible consequences 
were present, 'in justice to her we will say “she did.” 
This morning when all was confusion the contrast in 
Lois Allen’s past and present disposition had reached 
its climax. ‘ Sorrow, disappointment and self-reproach 
had grown upon her until the lovelier traits of her 
character had been lost in the scenes of worldliness' 
that were being enacted around her. 

On this morning there was a mechanical expres- 
sion of coldness upon her face that repelled and ren- 
dered inapproachable the secret promptings of her 
heart. She was in the drawing-room alone patiently 
waiting the announcement of the carriage that was 
to take her away. Her mind was not fixed definitely 
upon any one thing; others had said what she must 
do, and there was no further demand for her own 
thoughts. When she heard the rumbling of wheels 
on the drive, she drew herself to ^ full height ahd 
left the room with perfect indifference ; there was not 
a change in the stoical lines of her face ; yet beneath 
the guarded emotions of the soul there were spon- 
taneous traces of a deep and heart-felt interest in 
what she was doing. The supercilious smile that 
gracefully curved the faultless mouth, the inapproach- 
able iciness which marked her studied deportment and 
the hauteur with which she, attudinized the magnifi- 
cent head, all supported her majestic beauty superbly 
in its conceited arrogance. 

Iris accompanied Lois and Mr. Allen to the trial, 
blit they never turned their heads to speak or indicate 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 261 

an interest either way. This fired him with anger, 
but he did not attempt to coerce them into more 
courteous conduct. When they reached the court- 
room Norman had been brought from the jail and 
placed in the dock, ready for trial. He had changed 
much during his imprisonment; his face had lost 
every trace of )*ope, and his pale features stood out a 
sorrowful index to his bleeding heart. He had asked 
the privilege of remaining in the cell, declaring that 
he had no interest in the trial, but this was not granted 
and he was forced to endure the mortification of being 
exhibited as a prisoner before the vast throng assem- 
bled to witness the day’s proceedings. All the morn- 
ing he asked himself the question, “Would Lois be 
there to witness his disgrace?” He knew Iris would 
because she said she was coming. Would she try to 
implicate Mr. Allen upon the evidence he had placed 
in her hands? “It would have been far better if I 
had kept my secret,” he said to himself, as he entered 
the court-room unconscious of the many eyes directed 
toward him. 

He had not waited long before Mr. Allen, Lois 
and Iris appeared upon the scene. Iris, in compliance 
with her frank and honest nature, went forward with 
an inquiry as to his health. Lois’ eyes followed her, 
but when they fell upon the sorrowful face of the 
prisoner, she instantaneously withdrew them with a 
sigh of regret.^ When Norman saw the heartless, 
formal mein of her action his agony of mind and 
heart became almost unbearable. If she had onlv 
come and offered one word of tender, loving sympa- 
thy it would have cheered him for that day’s emer- 
gencies. 

Suddenly the solicitor for the State announced 
he was ready and desired to know if the opposing 
counsel was. For a moment all was breathless si- 
lence. The judge asked who was the defendant’s 
counsel. Upon investigation it was found that Nor- 
man had not employed any. The attorney for the 
State said Mr. Allen, his wife and her sister, all im- 
portant witnesses for the State, were present and that 


262 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


he opposed the continuance of the case. But before 
any further action could be taken the sheriff and a tall, 
handsome form attended by two State officers, armed 
their way through the densely packed crowd. As 
they neared the bar a hush fell upon the eager listen- 
ers as they breathlessly watched the new develop- 
ments. Silently the. sheriff obtained permission from 
the court to make an arrest of Ike Ancil alias Rich- 
ard Allen ; then turning to Mr. Allen in a clear, full 
voice he informed him that he held a warrant charg- 
ing him with the murder of Fred Russell. 

But before he could read the other charges im- 
plied, Mr. Allen sprang from his seat, excited beyond 
control, his eyes gleaming with a desperate fire, he 
exclaimed ; 

“That is a lie !” 

“The law and testimony must say whether these 
charges are false or not,” interposed the manly voice 
of Raymond Humphrey. 

“Who are you?” demanded the guilty wretch as 
his face turned ghastly pale with sickly fear. * 

“I am the attorney for the man you wilfully mur- 
dered in the wilds of Texas,” Raymond responded, 
with unfaltering determination. 

“You are an infernal liar! My name is Richard 
Allen. I know nothing of Ike Ancil. I never mur- 
dered any man !” emphasized the distressed and mor- 
tified man, as he made a desperate effort to regain his 
composure. 

Iris, on hearing the voice of Raymond, clasped 
Norman’s arm ; she half rose as if to go to him, but 
composing herself to the surrounding circumstances, 
she resumed her seat at the side of Norman, where 
she eagerly, anxiously watched the proceedings. Lois’ 
face turned a shade paler, but beyond this she be- 
trayed no signs of emotion. The judge inclined his 
anxious face forward to catch every word that was 
being said; lawyers, jury and countrymen stared with 
apprehensive faces to learn more of this remarkable 
scene. Raymond Humphrey was recognized by num- 
bers of his old acquaintances, which made the affair 


IS marriags a failure? 263 

more thrilling. Dumb silence prevailed as Raymond 

“It is not necessary to discuss this matter until it 
IS brought before the jury. You are charged with 
murder and with other crimes as heinous in this war- 


“But I refuse to be arrested !” interrupted Ancil 
in a tone of hopeless determination. 

“Then you will be forced into measures,” re- 
sponded Mr. Humphrey. 

“I call upon the good citizens of this city, who 
have known me for the last ten years, to protect me 
from this slanderous conspiracy!” exclaimed Ancil • 
wildly, as his rage became more intense. 

At this point the officers advanced to hand-cuff 
him. A hiss of discontent arose from the crowd, but 
none offered resistance, and soon Allen was over- 
powered and in the hands of the officers. A low 
wail of agony passed painfully over the lips of Lois 
as she heard her husband fall upon the floor ; but 
with a resolution as inflexible as law she governed 
herself once more. Iris came and placed her arm.'-; 
around her, but they were both as silent as the grave. 

Raymond Humphrey as yet had not observed 
their presence. When Mr. Allen was quiet he arose 
and said in a clear voice : 

“This gentleman persists in proclaiming his inno- 
cence. I have one test to which I would like to sub- 
ject him in the presence of this people.” 

Raymond paused and whispered to one of the of- 
ficers. The man retired from the room; in a few mo- 
ments he returned, accompanied by a tall, stately old 
man, whose long, flowing white beard covered his 
beneficent features. A smile of triumph lighted his 
eyes as he came upon the scene. Every eye was 
turned upon the mysterious stranger. Raymond 
asked : 

“Mr. Loraine, do you know that man?” pointing 
to the person we have known so long as Richard 
Allen. 

At the mention of that name Allen’s face turned 


IS marriage a failure? 


364 

as pale as death and his heart gave a quick bound, al- 
most paralyzing him with dread. 

The old gentleman replied as he looked up, wild 
with triumph and excitement : 

“That is Ike Ancil ! I wish to God I had never 
seen him. Ike, where are my children ?” 

Again every ear was strained to catch the words, 
and more than one heart beat in sympathy with his wild 
cry. Two beautiful forms had involuntarily arose 
from their seats^and stood looking into the face of the 
old man. There was but one man among that im- 
mense crowd who remained unconcerned, and that 
was Norman. As Ike heard the voice of Mr. Loraine 
he unconsciously exclaimed, “Have my sins found 
me out?” But this was heard only by a few who sat 
near him. 

Ike’s courage had failed. The bold, dare-devil 
plan that had won so many victories for him over 
right was of no avail now. His wicked course was 
about run, and its terrible consequences were about to 
satisfy their vengeance upon him. 

Mr. Humphrey continued : 

“This is my home,” and turning to the court he 
asked permission to say a few words bearing on the 
arrest. The court bowed his head and the young law- 
yer proceeded. “I left here several months since with 
a determination never to return, and had it not 
been for circumstances which I now relate, I would 
have kept my promise. After wandering through 
several States looking for a desirable locality in which 
to build up a law practice, I started from Meridian to 
Gatesville on foot. After pursuing more than half of 
my journey I neared a country house situated in the 
edge of some timber. A pistol fire aroused my atten- 
tion. I hastened to the house. On the way I met a 
man going at a rapid speed, whom I now take to have 
been the prisoner.” Ancil moved restlessly in his 
chair and perspiration rolled down his cheeks like 
drops of blood, “whom I then supposed to be going 
after a doctor. Again quickening my steps I soon 
reached the house. This sight met my eyes : This 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 265 

old gentleman — an invalid — was lying upon a scaffold 
of a bed in one corner of the house. On the floor lay 
a man whom I took to be dead. He had been shot as 
I learned by the fugitive man. On investigation I 
found he was not dead, but that the wound would 
necessarily prove fatal. After dressing it the best I 
could, the sufferer said that he knew death was near 
upon him and that he was desirous of making a con- 
fession for the benefit of the old man whom he said 
had been greatly wronged. This is the confession I 
hold in my hand which I will read in full in order to 
convince you of the real character of the prisoner. 

“ ‘Ancil Ranch, Texas, June, J88-. 

During the year 18 — , 1 lived in the State of Virginia, a mile 
from the Loraine plantation. I formed the acquaintance of Ike 
A ncil and a close attachment sprung up between us. I became 
his accomplice in many petty crimes, but owing to Ike’s asso- 
ciation with the Loraine family (wheie he had lived for many 
years, and under whose beueticence he was educated as a char- 
ity object), we were never suspicioned. One day after our cun- 
niugness had ripened into more boldness and confidence, Ike 
came to me and said ; ‘Fred, I have a big thing on foot, and if 
you will just stand by me we can make ourselves rich at one 
game.’ After I had assured him he could depend on me he 
continued: ‘Well, old man Pldmond has a full pocket book pf 
his own, besides he is guardian for Lois and Iris Earle.’ Here 
he paused and I said, ‘what of all this? Shall we wait until 
they are of a marriageable age, and then propose to them?’ ‘No, 
lie said, ‘can’t you understand ? I mean old man Ed is now 
about to die, and if we will play our cards well we can get into 
possession of his own money, also the guardian funds.’ I told 
him I would assist him. 

“‘Well, here are my plans,’ he continued. ‘We must si- 
lence the lips of Ed Loraine, kidnap the girls and place them 
where their story will not be heard,' and then we will take all 
available means and fly to the west. Everything seems to be in 
our favor. The war has just closed and men’s motives are not 
questioned like they are in times of long peace. Besides, the 
Eai-les and Loraines have no relatives to hunt us down even if 
our crime should be discovered. I have dropped something in 
old Ed’s glass to-night which will close his period of life. Sup- 
pose you and I go over to old Jessie’s to-night, kill him ami 
cover the trace by firing the house.’ I involuntarily asked 
what w^e would do with Lois Earl and Ids adopted son, Norman 
Wellington. Continuing, he said : 

We will bring the girl away with us ; and for the boy, if 
he is in our way we will consign him to the flames with the old 


266 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


man. You know there is not a house within three miles of the 
place where he lives-, and it may be a month before anybody 
will ever know what has occurred.’ I consented; we proceeded 
across the mountain a distance of about four miles, reaching the 
jdace of action a little after dark. Mr. Loraine was sitting on 
the veranda enjoying his pipe. Ike stealthily made his way 
to a place from where he fired. Mr. Loraine fell dead upon the 
iloor. We both hastened to the garden wdiere we had seen the 
children. The boy was gone. The little girl was in a state of 
unconsciousness, whether from excitement and fear produced 
by the shot, or other causes, we never learned. After setting 
fire to the house we hastened away with our charge. In a few 
hours we had securely locked her in an old house off the road- 
side. 

“ ‘With quick steps we made our way to Ed Loraiue’s, 
where he lay sick with fever in a state of deep unconsciousness. 
Ancil thouglit he would be dead ; in this he was mistaken. He 
wanted to finish him. I objected, so we decided to take him 
whth us, feeling sure he would die in a few hours any way. We 
traveled all night. The next morning we had reached a point 
upon the railroad where we disposed of our spring wagon and 
horses and took the cars to Louisville. Ike, upon our arrival, 
sought a convent for the little girls. Here we, very much 
against the cries of Iris, separated them from their uncle. The 
two little girls were almost, if not the perfect image of each 
other. They were lovely children, with long black hair and 
dark brown eyes. After depositing a sufficient sum at the con- 
vent to meet the demands of the proprietress of the institution, 
we departed for Texas. 

“About two months after our departure from Louisville we 
established ourselves at this place. Mr. Loraine continued to 
imjn’ove physically, but his mind for years remained in a state 
of peifect inactivity ; since which he has had lucid moments, 
ami I have recently believed it was being gradually restored. 
By this operation Ancil obtained g vast sum of money, a part 
of which he invested in this ranch. I have passed my days at 
the bedside of this old man. I have bitterly, sorely repented 
the. hour I consenteH, but I did it in an unguarded mo- 
ment, without considering the enormity of the crime. My 
social intimacy wdth Ike has long since closed, and I have never 
been able to extract any information from him concerning the 
children. Young man, may God bless you and preserve your 
strength to unmask this highway robber and bring him to a 
just account of the ruthless deeds he has perpetrated. I sol- 
emnly swear on this, my dying bed, that I have made a true 
statement. (Signed by) Fred Russell. 

‘“Witness, Raymond Humpitrey.’” 

“The party to this confession bound me by a 
solemn vow to do all in my power to bring Ike Ancil 
before a court of justice. Soon after his death, to- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 267 

gether with Mr. Loraine, I proceeded to Louisville. 
On our arrival at St. Anna’s Convent a matronly lady, 
who has been connected with the institution for years, 
received us. After stating our object she said she re- 
membered the two little girls well ; that they had re- 
mained with her until about ten years ago, when Miss 
Lois married a very wealthy man by the name of 
Allen, who lived near Nashville, Tennessee. We 
continued our search to this place.” Here Raymond’s 
voice quivered as he thought of Iris. “On last night 
Mr. Loraine, an officer and myself visited Rosedale 
with the object of getting a secret view of our man. 
Mr. Allen was sitting under the glare of a splendid 
light when we arrived. Mr. Loraine instantly iden- 
tified him as Ike Ancil. Then we returned to the 
city and prepared our papers for his arrest, feeling 
our mission was about accomplished.” 

As he closed this statement the suppressed indig- 
nation of the crowd rent the court-room with cries of 
“Death to Ancil-Allen !” “Vengeance on the foul 
fiend !” 

During these proceedings Ancil’s face assumed a 
pale, guilty appearance; every word of Fred Rus- 
sell’s confession was true, and lay upon his soul an 
uncancelled sin. His heart wilted, but he resolved to 
govern his external appearance and keep up at least 
some signs of innocence. 

The loud clamors were suddenly hushed as Iris, 
indifferent to all comments, hurriedly made her way 
to Raymond. She placed her hand upon his arm ; 
for the first time he knew she was present, and bitter 
memory held him speechless. Placing her eyes upon 
his, without a word of greeting, that look spoke to his 
soul. In a clear voice she made a brief, concise state- 
ment of the facts concerning the Anna Martin mur- 
der, requesting him to so state before the court in pe- 
tition of Norman’s release. 

The voice of the sin cursed man cried out : “Ihtst 
thou found me, oh ! mine enemy? Surely the mouth 
of the wicked poureth out evil things, the wicked is 
driven away into his wickedness and the end thereof 


368 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


is death.” His mind and soul became intoxicated 
with a delirious remorse for its own wickedness, and 
memory flitted across his wrecked brain the pursuing 
enemy clothed in sombre shadows. “Lost ! lost ! ! 
lost!!!” he agonized, as his mind became infested 
with a thousand shapes of fury, whirling itself into a 
frenzied torture without one glimpse of reason or 
heaven. Chained to the rock of his owm conscience, 
the vulture of mental regret fed upon the nerve cen- 
ters of his life until he felt that death would be his 
best friend. 

Upon Raymond’s motion for a dismissal of the 
case against Mr. Wellington, the judge ordered the 
prisoner released. When the fetters were removed 
from his arms, he went to Ancil, calling him Mr. 
Allen, he said; 

“Do not waste your time in these wild expostula- 
tions and vain regrets, but compose yourself, and if 
there is yet room in your heart for repentance, do not 
neglect it.” 

The criminal placed his blank eyes upon Nor- 
man ; suddenly a dangerous, hellish gleam flashed into 
them and he sprang to his feet infuriated with an 
awakened sense of murder. Norman said no more, 
but silently withdrew, as they moved the prisoner to 
jail. 

Lois’ grief had burst beyond the ligaments of 
pride, and she fell fainting into Iris’ arms. When her 
husband was carried away she was not conscious of it. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

DEATH RELENTS. 

The shadows lifted one by one 
Reveal life’s bright and beauteous sun. 

The astonishment, the sudden humiliation which 
Lois experienced on the occasion of her husband’s ar- 
rest bore upon her nervous temperament until she 
sank into a long state of unconsciou.sness, follow^ed by a 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 269 

severe attack of fever. For two months her mind dwelt 
in that half uneasy state in which rest was often near, 
but owing to the unfortunate memories that perturbed 
her brain, it never came. For a while dim recollec- 
tions of some half-known sorrow would rise up in the 
dizzy chambers of the brain and then as suddenly 
subside, leaving her in a state of nervous prostration 
and insensibility. Her mind grew delirious, painting 
phantasmagoric figures on every corner of the room. 
She would start from her pillow as if aroused by some 
hideous dream and then relapse into a fitful stupor of 
painless uneasiness. Finally a deep sleep settled upon 
the emaciated form, every one said it was the stupor 
of death. 

The news came that Ancil had committed suicide 
•in his cell ; but his wife was too near upon the bor- 
der-land of eternity to heed the message. Iris tossed 
the folded paper into the grate with an inconse- 
quential air. Edmond Loraine turned pallid wi>h 
grief, tears leaping over his furrowed face, as he 
breathed huskily: 

“Ins, if it had not been for your old uncle Lois 
would have lived and you would have been happier. 
But it is better death than she should have lived the 
wife of such a man.” 

“My uncle, your presence in our home is a very 
high source of pleasure to me. You fill a father’s 
chair and render my life useful in waiting upon you. 
Don’t grieve upon the change in my poor sister’s life. 
She was never happy. Her life was but the living re- 
minder of a living death — only marriage without love 
Hs a failure' But, uncle, she may not die, though 
there is little upon which to base our hopes.” 

Truly Iris’ observations were correct ; there was 
but little in the pale, wasted form, in the lustreless 
cheek and sunken, death-haunted eyes upon which to 
base hope. “She is almost gone,” was echoed around 
the room. A loving sister knelt at the bedside breath- 
ing a silent but earnest prayer. A grief-stricken 
uncle stood over a dying niece. Another form en- 
tered the room and stood near the weeping friends. 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


270 

Looking down upon the colorless face, where the fin- 
ger prints of death were almost traceable, his heart 
filled with a hopeless dread, as he breathed her name 
softly. At the first sound of his mournful voice the 
pale sleeper opened her eyes and looked about the 
room, but as suddenly closed them, a feeble shiver 
passed over her and she again sank into that stupor of 
complete prostration so closely allied to death itself. 

“She ia gone,” whispered Mr. Loraine. 

“As long as there is life, there is hope,” said Ray- 
mond Humphrey. 

Ah! no; Uncle Edmond, do not hope any more. 
She has nearly crossed the Jordan’s stream !” ex- 
claimed the despairing sister. 

“Oh ! my precious Lois is certainly dead ! After 
all these long years of separation I have found her, 
she yields to the fiat of death because I came!” htf 
exclaimed in a dry, hoarse voice. 

“Don’t lament because of this, uncle. You have 
not been to blame. Trust me ; I know this is just 
one of those cases in which the unseen hand moves 
with mysterious purpose. You have acted upon the 
honest conviction of right,” responded Iris amid her 
rapid cries of sorrow. 

“Mr. Loraine, your self-reproach is natural, but 
it will subside as this over-excitement wears away ; 
only try to behold God in this sorrow, and His prom- 
ises will comfort you.” rejoined Raymond, endeavor- 
ing to restrain his violent weeping. 

But the one whose heart-beats echoed the most 
painful i^grets stood speechless as death, the con- 
quered, the sad wreck of a relentless woe. His mind 
had lost all fancy for worldly allurements and uncon- 
sciously wandered out into those gloomy regions 
where the life cord is almost severed by the soul’s 
own wretchedness; while a tear did not glisten upon 
his white, rigid cheeks, the extremity of his grief 
convulsed his body like a paroxysm of pain. Could 
any one behold the mercy of God in Norman Well- 
ington’s life? Yet the human soul is reflected in its 
own history as having endured the affliction of the 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 27 1 

world in order to gain an inheritance in the empyreal 
home. 

Surely if the cruel, bitter chastisement could 
humble the proud heart or carry the soul through the 
critical and delicate process of refining, the magnani- 
mous aims of the unheard voice were accomplished, 
for trouble, real trouble came to him with the dawn of 
love. But until he knew Lois the empty longing in 
his soul after real happiness was never once appeased. 
The parched lips that had ached a life-time for one 
draught from the crystal goblet of real pleasure, 
thirsted on until the wings of love cast their shadow 
over his pathway. But when the first impetuous gust 
was quelled by the counteracting gale of instability, 
the marble finger of grief touched his heart, record- 
ing another instance in human chronology where 
there can be no pleasure without pain, or vice versa. 

Whether Norman Wellington’s unenviable state 
of mind was but the legitimate sequence of the sin 
involved in transcending the formal laws of caste and 
loving a woman whom he recognized as the wife of 
another, or the predestined course outlined by those 
tyrannical Fates who preside over the destiny of men 
without regard to conditions attained through free- 
will acts, will not be fully known before the hour of 
dissolutim. Yet, inasmuch as our hero has fallen a 
hopeless victim to that love from which there is no 
rescue, we feel inclined to add one word in his defense. 

It has long been a question among physicists as 
to how far the will is controlled by circumstances in- 
dependent of any free agency, either involving or re- 
pudiating all human responsibility. The Robert 
Owen view of this question is poisoned with sophis- 
try, and is but an ingenious device to lure many irre- 
claimably into the pitfalls of sin. These facts all en- 
tered into the young merchant’s consideration when 
he first sought to allay the storm in his heart. It came 
upon him a sudden surprise, quickening his mind into 
the solemnity and abstractness of meditation; declin- 
ing to intimate its purpose, it rushed into his heart, a 
tide divine, filling his soul with pleasurable thrills. 


272 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

Truly, that sovereign which so often perplexes the 
mind* mystihes the soul, formed the inevitable, bend- 
ing the human will to approbate the psychal impression, 

•‘That arose from a vision fair. 

But why 110 reason did assign. 

Except the heart thought it a woman divine.” 

^ ^ -V: % ^ * 

But Lois Earle was not dying ; it was one of 
those instances in which the body sinks into that state 
of exhaustion closely allied with death, before the 
spirit has signaled the time of absolute dissolution. 
The body was gone, but it was called back to consum- 
mate its unfinished measure. It is impossible to de- 
termine how near man may approach the mystic 
borders of the eternal world and then be restored to 
health and vigor in this life. But we are safe in say- 
ing the corporeal entity of humanity sometimes passes 
beyond that line of earthly pain into th? realm of 
gloom and unconsciousness which intervenes between 
absolute death and the various conditions of which 
the feeling of the body is an expression of life. 

There is a half ethereal state of existence, after 
human endurance has lost its faculty of perception, in 
which the body remains passive while the spirit is 
dissolved, for a time, from its frail associate to ramble 
at will in the mystic gloom of the intermediate state 
until awakened to a sense of its utter loneliness by 
the indistinct recognition of an evanescent outline 
connecting the present with the past ; then it flees 
back, reanimating the pulseless body and instilling 
new hope into the hearts of friends. So when Lois 
again opened her eyes with slight traces of their old 
lustre, weeping voices changed to joyful exclamations. 

“Thank God, she is not dead!” some one said ; 
“she seems to have awakened from a long, peaceful 
rest.” “She is looking for some one,” added another. 

“What do you want, darling?” softly questioned 
Iris ; but the graceful lashes again sought repose upon 
the wan cheeks ; a gentleness and placidity of expres- 
sion settled upon her face, impressing it with the sig- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


273 

net of perfect contentment. When her eyes had 
firmly closed Raymond said: 

“Her manner was like one half aroused from a 
pleasant dream, and while under its delightful influ- 
ence she endeavored to recognize some of the causes 
which had associated her mind with those possibilities 
that filled her heart with wild rapture ; but on meet- 
ing a slight disappointment closed her eyes with the 
joyless hope of revisiting dreamland.” 

“It may be death this time,” said Iris, her voice 
sinking to a sad whisper again. 

“I think she has gone through the worst stage of 
the disease. That change which always decides the 
fate of such cases has taken place ; she did not die ; 
we have the strongest reason to hope for her recovery,” 
said Raymond, trying to make Iris and Mr. Loraine 
more hopeful. 

As Raymond predicted, Lois was not destined to 
die. A change had taken place which placed her 
physical frame upon a sure basis of recovery. Nor- 
man remained at Rosedale until he was certain she 
was out of danger, but he never went into her pres- 
ence after she regained consciousness lest it might 
jeopardize her condition, besides her last conduct to- 
ward him was of that cold, indifferent type which in- 
volved the question as to whether his presence at 
Rosedale would be agreeable to her. He felt that it 
would not. Iris had invited him, as she thought, in 
the last extremity of life, that he might witness the 
last moments of the woman he loved. 

, Lois did not know he was there and would never 
have sent for him. That love with which she had 
made him so happy had distilled itself into nothing- 
ness ; like mist before sunshine, it vanished ; like the 
winds, it was fickle*; unlike woman, it was cruel ; it 
toyed and played with his heart until it was tired and 
threw it away, as a child would a toy it had wearied 
of. No, he felt that he had too much pride for his 
own individuality to impose himself upon any one. 
If she ever sent for him, he would go to her ; he still 
loved her, but his heart had borne too many bruises 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


274 

alone to ever ask her to lighten his burden or make a 
reparation of the wrong she had done him. 

Several days had passed since the change came 
for the better, and she was slowly but surely being 
ushered back from the portal of death. 

“You are not going away this morning, are you, 
Norman?” inquired Iris as she came into the library, 
where he sat alone. 

“Yes, Iris ; I can’t stay any longer. Your sister 
is better now, and you know it will be best for me to 
go,” he responded in a weary tone, as he looked va- 
cantly about the room. 

“Why do you think it will be best to go away? 
We would be pleased to have you remain at Rosedale 
as long as j^our business will permit.” 

“I am sure you would. Iris. I know you esteem 
me, but you forget that your sister would disapprove 
of your plans. Then, Rosedale awakens so many un- 
pleasant and bitter memories that I know it is not 
best for me to remain.” 

“I think Lois will care more for you now than 
ever. While I have been prompt to condemn her 
cruel conduct, yet there are mitigating circumstances 
in her case which should soften our judgment.” 

“Iris, if the heart which beats within my base 
body was dead, my life would not be more destroyed 
than it is. The word — death — is but a taint expres- 
sion of my wretchedness. I saw my hopes one by one 
depart, until I was reduced to the wreck you behold. 
Yet, Iris, in all my humiliation and distress, I have 
yet a single spark of pride which restrains me to' se- 
crecy.” 

“But, Norman, you are daily committing suicide. 
If you do not take some measure to disperse your mind 
of these gloomy forebodings, death will visit you 
quickly. Why make yourself so miserable about the 
affairs of this life ? Surely Shakespeare expresses a 
practical idea : 

“ ‘Some grief shows much of love; 

But much of grief still shows some want of wit.’ 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 275 

“Norman let me insist upon your acting on this 
idea.” 

“No; it is useless to advise me now ; my heart 
has reached that state in which there is no hope for 
me. I am going away this morning, probably never 
to return.” 

“Well then, I must tell you my story. You re- 
member Uncle Edmond and Mr. Humphrey came 
home with us from the trial?” He bowed assent. 
“I told Raymond of the mistake he had made. It 
may have been unadvised in me, but I knew he was 
greatly troubled and I wanted to restore him to his 
former cheerfulness. I accomplished it. A new light 
sprang into his eyes, and his face was aglow with new 
found joy. Sister has been sick ever since that day, 
and though we have not decided upon the date of our 
marriage it is tacitly understood that it will take place 
at an early day after Lois gets well. Promise that 
you will come if I send you word,” she said, trying to 
lure his mind away from the distraction of its grief. 

“Iris, if you but knew how little I care for life, 
you would not invite me.” 

“Yes, I would, Norman ; I esteem you with a 
sister’s devotion. Have you ever seen a disposition in 
me to disregard your feelings?” she asked, a ring of 
pathos in her clear voice. 

“Your kind consideration of me will be remem- 
bered as a memento of your innate goodness. I owe 
you a life of devotion — years of gratitude. In deep- 
est sorrow and worst humiliation, you alone were my 
friend. We cannot trust every one who has an oily 
tongue and honeyed lips ; only those who have proven 
their love are worthy the name and honor of friend- 
ship. Byron best expresses my feelings: 

“ ‘Though human, thou didst not deceive me; 

Though woman, thou didst not forsake; 

Though loved, thou forborest to grieve me; 

Though slandered, thou never couldst shake. 

Though trusted, thou didst not disclaim me; 

Though parted, it was not to fly; 

Though watchful, it was not to defame me, 

Nor mute that the world might belie.’ 


276 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

“Iris, my heart will never cease to beat with the 
tenderest memories of you. Your charitable demon- 
strations in my behalf are all I have left to treasure 
as a token of the world’s charity. Mr. Humphrey 
and yourself have the sincere congratulation of my 
heart. May your path through life be strewn with 
flowers and the atmosphere you breathe be sweetened 
with the aroma of perpetual love. Now, sister, I 
must bid you adieu, and please do not entreat me, for 
my heart is already sore with pain.” 

Iris endeavored to detain him by insisting that he 
should speak to Lois, but it was useless. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

CONCLUSION. 

Jsor custom, nor example, nor vast numbers 

Of such as do offend, make less the sin. 

For each particular crime a strict account 

Will be exacted. 

— Massenger’s Picture. 

Life is taken to punish the example, not the guilt. 

One month had gone since Norman Wellington’s 
departure. Lois had regained sufficient strength to 
walk about in her room. Another month glided by 
before the wedding day. There never was a happier 
of more congenial couple led to the altar of love than 
Raymond Humphrey and Iris Earle. Proud of their 
lives because of each other, they assumed these new 
responsibilities with faces triumphant with the glow 
of contentment and hearts buoyant with hope. There 
was nothing in the myriad pages of memory to pierce 
their hearts with regret or immerse conscience in the 
fire of self-reproach. 

Owing to the delicate attention which Lois’ fee- 
ble and yet precarious condition required, their honey- 
moon was passed among the quiet beauties of Rose- 
dale, where they settled, making it their permanent 
home. Mr. Loraine, whose affliction had passed 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 277 

away, leaving him a healthy, vigorous old man, be- 
came the revered object of their tenderest care. A 
hideous past was absorbed in the complacency of the 
present, and they were in the noontide of blissful 
supremacy. 

The shadow of a direful melancholy fell across 
Lois’ pathway, benighting memory and leaving life 
in a wakeful stupor. She had been mysteriously pre- 
served from the cheerless, silent tomb ; some invisible 
incomprehensible touch arrested her soul and gently, 
imperceptibly rescued it ; but that transformation 
which was wrought in her social temperament and 
disposition was as well defined, as absolute as if the 
chilly hand of Azreal had led her across the dividing 
line of time and eternity. The proud, stoical nature, 
both pathetic and inapproachable in the vast latitude 
of its variableness, had been reconstructed into calm- 
ness — an imperturbability which always follows the 
resignation of the soul to an implacable sorrow. The 
expressive face, once so radiant and cheerful — though 
there ever lurked the fitful shadow of melancholy so 
indispensable to the real perfection of beauty — was 
ghastly and emaciated, bearing the signet of untimely 
depression. 

Almost two years had elapsed since her illness, 
yet there were no traces of returning cheerfulness ; 
the glad mein of a smile had ceased to sway her rnar- 
ble lips from their graceful repose or dispel for one 
moment the gloom of her presence. Her heart had 
undergone one of those complete ultra changes which 
occasionally metamorphose the fundamental charac- 
teristics of a human life into a secondary state, in 
which the mind is affected and controlled by different 
influences than those which gain the ascendency over 
the normal state. The old habiliments of nature were 
gone — hopelessly gone — leaving her the monumental 
wreck of relentless destiny, drawn into that gloomy 
abyss of despair over which the crucial, hard-hearted 
world moved, deaf to her pleading cries ; even time 
possessed no curative properties ; that disease — the 
destroyer of life’s pleasures — had seized upon the 


278 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

heart and triumphed so long that it had become a 
part of herself. 

Iris, watchful and tender, used every means to 
bring about a restoration of those conditions in her 
sisters health, when she might resume her former in- 
terest in the affairs of life. Plans of travel were 
studied and proposed, but Lois, invincible to entreaty, 
rejected them all. She was indifTerent, obstinate and 
even cruel to these solicitations ; she protested against 
any further communication with the world, and hated 
the interference and existence of others, herself as 
well. Three years of this strange gloom and quietude 
prevailed at Rosedale, before its melancholy monotony 
was broken ; a favorable change came over her. One 
afternoon late, during the time of this hopeful transi- 
tion, Iris entered her room. She was standing at- 
tired in the softest, sheerest silken weave. The first 
marvelously delicate curves, that start with strange 
fascination and evanescent lines near the throat and 
end in sublime prominence, — the virgin solidity and 
fullness of the bosom, — as well as the ample breadth 
and faultless undulation of the hips were intensified 
beneath the clinging folds of the filmy material ; the 
superbly turned arm — exquisite and fine in its luxuri- 
ous softness, so white that it was impossible to tell 
where the dainty meshes of her French chemise be- 
gan — ended in an aristocratic hand, that held a small 
mirror before her, with the other she pressed the wav- 
ing ebony hair, falling in rich abundance about the 
supple figure, lent a weird beauty to the mystical face 
that seemed vainly trying to recall its own dreamy 
eyes and mournful features. 

She asked if Mr. Wellington had been at Rosedale 
during her illness. 

On being told that he had, she arose from her seat 
to leave the room ; but Iris detained her. 

“Would you like to see Norman? I am ” — 

“O, no, I did not mean that,” she interrupted, her 
voice sad with regret. 

Iris believing a further continuance of the subject 
would be unpleasant let the matter rest. Lois again 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


279 



jA:nt a weird l.oaiitv to the iny,>t ii al face that -eemed vainly trying to recall 
its own dreamy nyea and ntournful feiturcs. 


28 o 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


turned to leave the room, but Iris again interrupted 
her. 

“Where are you going ?” 

“Out for a short walk,” was the soft reply. 

“Mr. Humphrey is coming ; suppose we go out for 
a drive ; the moon will shine. Think how long you 
have imprisoned yourself within the narrow limits of 
these grounds ; Lois, our hearts beat with the tender- 
est love for you and our deep anxiety for your health 
is shown in our efforts to cheer you into your former 
state of happiness.” 

Lois calmly shook her head,a vague, far-off look on 
her face. Iris knowing that entreaties would be 
useless said tenderly ; 

“You are too weak to go out alone,let me ring for 
Fanchette, or, if you prefer, I will go with you.” 

“No,” she answered sadly, “my strength is suf- 
ficient. Solitude is my dearest companion. If 
there is one thing I long for above another, it is to be 
alone. If in the grave I find endless solitude, I will 
have my only hope realized. 

“Lois,”said Iris pleadingly, “for your own sake,be 
more cheerful. God will meet you at the grave, but 
unless you continue in his words it will not be a 
happy meeting. You must evc7' have co7npanionship ; 
solitude is nowhere to be found. It is either death 
— eternal death — or the companionship of angels and 
redeemed saints. God’s promises are for those who 
are in distress. ‘ Blessed are they who mourn, for 
they shall be comforted.’ And don’t you remember 
that beautiful verse in Revelation, ‘And God shall 
wipe away ^1 tears from their eyes, and there shall 
be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither 
shall there be any more pain, for the former things are 
passed away.’ ” 

“I know you are kind,but my grief is greater than 
I can bear ; no%v I have told*you, leave me alone,” 
she pleaded, the wandering, dazed look in her face. 

“One more word and I will not keep you longer. 
I know your burden is greater than you can bear. 
Do not try to carry it ; but go to Him who promises 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


281 


rest ; for he says, ‘if you have sorrow, I will see you 
again and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no 
man can take it from you.’ These utterances of 
Christ, so full of love and compassion, of themselves 
should solace your weary troubled soul into that 
peace which ‘passeth understanding.’ ” 

Lois resumed her seat, but indicated that she 
wanted to be alone. When Iris had left the room, 
impelled by an indefinable motive, Lois sauntered out 
into the grounds where she could see the sparkling 
fountain^ hear its soft, musical murmur, and inhale 
the dew-laden odors from the trees and flowers. It 
was one of those moments that connects waning twi- 
light with the deeper shades of darkness. 

Her mind lost in the labyrinthian circle of mono- 
maniacal bewilderment, a power incomprehensible 
directed her footsteps along the terraced walk that 
led to the haunted spot where she had met Norman 
on the night of his misfortune. But it never occurred 
to her that fate, or the imperceptible influence of the 
past were swaying their magic sceptre over her as 
she with an indefinable sense of pleasantness ap- 
proached the rustic seat. Why a feeling of anxiety 
possessed her to revisit the memorable place that had 
been the witness of such a frightful and tragic event, 
is inexplicable. Her mind was clear of any abstract 
realization of the cause which might have signalized 
the mysterious movements. Those events in which 
Norman Wellington’s name was associated were ab- 
solved from her present state of consciousness, leaving 
her to the mercy of those influences which only exert 
their power while the will is mesmerized or has 
otherwise sought a state of passiveness. Reaching 
the rustic seat she sat down, her mind still in that 
state of peaceful inactivity. 

Over three years had elapsed since she had been 
wrapt in the solitude of this magnificent scene. En- 
cumbered by the distracting sorrow of a long,merciless 
grief her mind detaching itself from the body would 
wander into those beclouded, pathless regions, border- 
ing on the unknown, penetrating no further into the 


2^2 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE^ 

receptacles of the past than its own gloomy, desolate 
habitation. 

During that period of time which connected Ike 
Ancil’s arrest with the days when she had received 
sufficient strength to sit up, her mind was totally 
blank, with one exception. On this night while the 
scintillating stars and the soft refulgence of Cynthia 
lent inspiration to her soul, and as it went back into 
the mysticism of that single exception, she became 
lost in the wild estrangements of her own thoughts. 

“Where was I.?” she began, her mind in that fitful, 
dreamy state between absolute repose and perfect 
consciousness. “ On either side of me were gloomy 
impenetrable walls, different from the walls of other 
prisons, for here the mind immured could not escape. 
I looked upward toward the far, invisible sky ; I 
heard a sound such as I never heard before ; it per- 
vaded my strange, sombre abode ; looking around, I 
expected to see the material form of a person ; disap- 
pointment awaited me ; there was no sign of any one. 
I was in that chasm over which disembodied spirits 
are led by the Angel of Death. Vague outlines of 
spiritual entities were flying over me. ‘Death is 
doing its work rapidly,’ I thought. Then came the 
idea that the dying of all climes must come this way. 
It became evident that I was sinking deeper into the 
awful gloom and that my situation was becoming 
more precarious. 

“The sound I first heard followed me,its tones grew 
more entreating and natural. I listened to learn if 
any intelligence was being conveyed. The modula- 
tions were very indistinct but they seemed addressed 
to me and I caught the words, ‘come back ! come 
back !’ as they were whispered in my ears. A spec- 
tral form appeared at my side. Pausing in my de- 
scent, eyes which I never possessed in my mortal state 
were opened. My body and soul were in a state of 
dissolution ; becoming alarmed at the solitary desola- 
tion of my surroundings, the horrible condition of my 
loneliness became apparent. By some inexplicable 
means I was carried back through the dismal horrors 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 283 

and I entered the chilled tenement of clay. I fell 
asleep in the arms of exhaustion ; a long, long 
night ensued in which I knew nothing. 

“Was this all a dream? Yet dreams have some 
association with real life ; but oh heavens ! what is 
there in this fanciful hallucination to awake the 
hope that my sorrows will be crowned with a 
blessing.” 

Lois had closed her eyes and let her head fall upon 
her arm. Her face in its exquisite beauty never 
looked more akin to heaven than on this night as it 
reposed under the slanting rays of the shimmering 
moon, contrasting its snowy complexion with the 
jetty lashes, the over-arched brows and the raven 
tresses. 

A handsome, but attenuated figure with almost 
noiseless steps came from an opposite direction to 
that from which she had. Without observing the 
presence ©f any one he threw himself upon the green 
sward his head nearly touching her feet. Fatigued 
by travel his eyes closed in rest. This spot, although 
it had been the witness of a great crime, was the 
dearest place on earth to him. Lois, with her eyes 
still closed in mystic meditation, heard not the weary 
man fall upon the'velvet couch. Her silent reverie 
was unbroken. 

“I would to heaven I could forget him. Norman, 
what magic power have you over my heart, that I am 
your slave? It is whispered by the evening zephyrs 
that your love is not dead; but how can that be? 
The spirit of justice and revenge contravenes it. My 
sins, my selfishness and my obstinate pride have come 
up before me as witnesses of my cruelty. Will this 
wretched night of sorrow ever end. 

‘O, dark, dark amid the blaze of moon 
Irrevocably dark ; to total eclipse 
Without one hope of day.’ 

“Yes,I am quite sure he does not love me, or why 
could he have gone away ; but perhaps his leave is to 
that eternal home of rest. Why should I expect him 
to love me? When he was slandered and in prison 


284 IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 

I renounced all allegiance to him. It was a cruel 
sense of right — a most cruel fiend — that entered my 
heart and chilled it with that indomitable pride, 
which gave me the power to humble and disown the 
only man I ever loved. He would have died for my 
sake ; but when his name was shrouded in calumny, 
and his innocent body languished behind prison bars, 
he preserved silence to protect my name. If, in the 
last hours of our association, I had been kinder to 
him, all this sorrow might not have come upon me 
and my life would have been interspersed with a few 
peaceful moments ; but as it is — by the frightful con- 
sequences of my own pride — I am plunged into that 
hideous region from which there seems no hope of 
escape.” 

Here she paused a moment, lifting her arms and 
face heavenward, she cried in a pitiful, hopeless voice. 

“Come back ! come back ! That I may make some 
reparation for my folly. Leave me not, I entreat you, 
to this horrible relentless destiny. O, Chi?!st, Thou 
who for awhile endured the depths of human misery, 
make a special intercession with Fate that every ray 
of sunshine may not be withdrawn from my path- 
way.” 

As the notes of her pleading voice floated out upon 
the solitude of night, the influence of a delightful en- 
chantment settled around the weary form at her feet. 
For a moment a celestial breeze fanned his soul to 
speechless ecstacy ; but as the dying echoes were 
wafted away the delicious spell was broken ; he arose 
to u sitting posture, blind with rapture, his spirit 
hushed by the tranquil scene of the hour and his face 
aglow with the thrilling, dreamy indistinctness of 
what he had just heard. He said : 

“O, eternal love, hast thou again visited this sacred 
spot to sing the accompaniament to the music of the 
murmuring water and the whispering wind? I have 
heard the soft notes of thy voice pleading in distress. 
Was it but a dream? Where are you to-night, Lois, 
that the winds speak of you ? 

At the sound of a human voice upon the stillness 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 285 

of the hour, she opened her eyes to behold the out- 
lines of a man sitting at her feet ; but there was a 
strange attractiveness about the melancholy face 
which not only chained her motionless under a spell 
of resistless facination, but instantly awoke that sym- 
pathetic response which forms a kinship between 
those who are fellow-sufferers in the bitter adversities 
of life. At first the impulse came to flee away from 
him ; but she suppressed it as she became entranced 
in a solemn study. “O, that sorrowful face !” she 
thought as she queried in a gentle, smothered voice : 

“Who are you ? ” 

The moon was curtained by a sombre cloud yet 
under its shadowy and flickering light, he recognized 
the wasted form of the speaker as that of Lois; re- 
covering from the first shock of surprise, he exclaimed: 

“ 0 , my God ! where have you been that you look 
so ghastly? Are you dead and this your spirit returned 
from heaven to ma’ke this spot more sacred ?” 

When Norman placed his eager eyes upon her the 
recognition was instant. Again she thought to 
fly, but was held in his presence by a power stronger 
than human will. She remained silent while her 
mind seemed to be gathering some of its old strength. 

“ Speak tome, my darling ; this excessive suspense 
is more than I can bear,” he exclaimed almost wild 
with doubt and anxiety^ 

The influence which fell around her, wielded by 
the sound of his voice, was as gentle and imperceptible 
in its operation as the distilled dew of morning, and 
the soul so long the hopeless vassal of grief, was 
transformed into a state of tranquility in which the 
empire of mind received its full coterie of strength 
and gave her once more a lucid perception of her 
environments. She answered calmly, suppressing 
surprise : 

“No, Norman ; in the ordinary acceptation of 
that term I have not been dead, but in its metaphysi- 
cal application I have. But tell me, where Lave 
you been, and how came you here to-night?” 

“Lois, you are but the shadow of your former self ; 


286 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


my soul yearns to know of your life — that individual 
life which embodies the whole of mine,” he exclaimed 
passionately. “But, my queen, with an anxious heart 
I bow to your will and endeavor to answer your ques- 
tion. I hardly know. Two long years ago I left 
Rosedale, as I thought then, never to return. Dar- 
ling, my only object was to forget you. I loved you 
so tenderly, so madly, and stern reason forced me to 
believe my presence hateful to you. Disappointed 
and wretched I left, hoping time and travel would 
conquer the love that had been the source of untold 
misery and had ruled my life with an iron will. 

“Soon the blue Atlantic rolled between us ; a 
month was spent in London, with a terrible longing for 
home consuming me. Determined to leave my 
troubles behind, I went to gay Paris ; my love fol- 
lowed me. O ! it seemed a part of myself. I contin- 
ued my travels to the far East, where I sought rest in 
the study of the quaint old pictures and cities which 
seemed to breathe the once greatness of fallen em- 
pires. Finally dejected and disappointed, I turned 
homeward. 

“Two months ago my feet again pressed Ameri- 
ca’s balmy land, the same wrecked and unhappy man 
I was when I sailed for Europe. I renewed my reso- 
lutions not to return to Rosedale, and embarked for 
the western frontiers ; but there too, whether on 
desolate plain, in the rugged, towering mountain, or 
near by the ever sighing rivulet, the past — the worm- 
wood of grief, mingled with myrrh of happiness — was 
my only recollection. 

“But I endured it all until one lovely evening 
while sitting near my camp fire, there came upon me 
a spirit of dissatisfaction which the magnificent 
scenery of the surrounding mountains could not dissi- 
pate. All my boasted resolutions gave way before an 
indefinable longing to see you. I threw down the 
gauntlet of volition and human pride before the em- 
pirical logic of Fate and came home. I did not ex- 
pect to reveal my presence to you. I only designed 
to look quietly into your face once more and then go 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 287 

away* Now, tell me of yourself ; I am so anxious to 
know.” 

“Lois began with the fifst dawn of memory since 
her illness, giving by detail the gloomy events of her 
life. Norman assured by the pathetic recital of her 
story that her heart, amid all his doubts, belonged to 
him, arose and seating himself by her side would 
have clasped her in his arms, but anticipating his in- 
tentions, she raised her hands in objection as she said : 

“Do you love me?” 

“Lois, why can you doubt me? What greater 
evidence of the reality of my love can you demand 
than what I have given ?” 

“You do not understand me, Mr. Wellington. I 
feel that I am unworthy of your love and devotion. 
For your own sake, think how much misery I have 
caused you and ask yourself, can it ever be forgiven ; 
after having seen my face to-night, robbed of its 
former lustre, you will easily forget me. A few 
months and my image will be no more in your 
heart.” 

“Lois,” he began, “I think you are a little un- 
kind. It is not necessary for me to repeat the story I 
told you in these grounds a few years ago ; but I as- 
sure you every word is as true now as then. Your 
conception of the sentimental does not comprehend 
the magnitude of my attachment. In the earlier days 
of our association, when you were in constant fear of 
my instability, I assured you then that time would 
never change the relation of my heart to you ; an ab- 
sence spanning a lifetime cannot wear away the gol- 
den ligaments of real love. Yes, Lois; 

‘Still I love thee : — Time who sets 
His signet on my brow • 

And dims my sunken eye, forgets 
The heart he could not bow ; — 

Where love, that cannot perish grows 
For one, alas ! that little knows 
How love may sometimes last; 

Like sunshine wasting in the skies 
When clouds, are overcast.” 

“Only give me the assurance of your love I once 


288 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


enjoyed and all the bitter past will be forgotten in 
the transport of a moment,” he implored anxiously.” 

“Norman, for your own sake, reconsider this 
matter; think when I was under the iron 
bondage of pride, how cruel and ungrateful was my 
conduct ; — then, how could I give you that assurance 
of my love you once had. I know you could not ac-, 
cept my simple statement as then,” she answered, 
and she realized to a fuller degree how much she 
was loved. 

“Lois,” he responded his voice betraying deep 
earnestness, “if we love each other why go back into 
the gloomy past to borrow trouble — 

‘SuflBcieut unto the day is the evil thereof.’ 

Though at times I felt you were both unjust and 
ungrateful, yet I never treasured an unkind thought 
of you. Let us forget these sad memories, give 
them a place in the oblivious past where they belong. 
There is but one thing needful to dissipate my grief 
and restore my happiness.” 

“What is it Norman ;” she asked, her eyes radiant 
with unshed tears. 

“The one constant and undivided love of your 
heart consecrated upon the altar of matrimony,” he 
answered passionately. 

“Norman, will you believe me now?” she asked. 

He bowed his head as she continued : 

“My heart has always been yours ; even when a 
child I loved you. 

“My joys were so many while in your presence 
that I knew they would not last ; but now nothing, 
save death, can ever separate us; — a happiness, a de- 
licious hope comes up from the burning altar of grief. 
Will this kiss convey to your soul that evidence of my 
feelings which will tranquilize it into the rapture of 
confidence?” With these passionate utterances she 
threw her arms around his neck after the manner of 
hd^ old frankness. 

“Darling,this is a supreme moment,coming in the 
darkest hour of sorrow and misery. After all our hu- 
miliation and shameful sin, we are to attain the goal 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


289 


of perfect bliss,” he whispered as he pressed her ten- 
derly to his bosom. 

Placing her hand over his mouth to signal his 
silence, she said : 

““This is the golden period of my life which will 
last until the sun has gone down — it is the prophetic 
dream of the wretched past and the materialization of 
our sweetest and fondest hopes — it is the blissful 
mystery of two hearts blended together and fated to 
one destiny — the music of one anthem, 

‘Love the silver link, the silver tie, 

Which heart to heart and mind to mind 
In body and in soul can bind.” 

A painful reflection crossed the radiant face and 
its glowing beams faded into twilight, as she whis- 
pered : 

“You cannot forget the past — your imprisonment 
and my heartlessness. I shall ever be to you a change- 
less representation of our mutual folly.” She raised 
her hands in shrinking horror as if to ward off some 
approaching, deadly heaviness, and exclaimed : “// is 
God"' s terrible retribution.^'^ 

» Iris, who had been a joyful witness of Norman’s 
return, stepping from behind a lilac bush, to which 
she had followed Lois in watchful care, threw her 
arms around their necks and said in tearful gladness : 

“Norman, this evening God has bountifully 
answered the one long and anxious prayer of my 
heart.” She would have continued, but her voice 
petrified, and it was the last happy word spoken. 
An unearthly transformation came over Lois. The 
star of happiness went down forever ; reason — the 
most idolized of all earthly endowments — surrendered 
her sceptre. 

The lustrous eyes grew distant and star-like in 
their arctic beauty, and the passionate, intellectual 
and mystical face with its amplitude of brilliant and 
subtle charms shed its foliage and in it place an un- 
natural statuesque of marble with the hollow empti- 
ness of death about it. In a moment, under the fierce 
indignation of God, the pride, the hope, the unbend- 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


290 

ing haughtiness, the conflicting emotions, the love of 
admiration, the radiant and beautiful reflection of her 
heart sought a common grave, and this woman who 
had flirted with the sunshine of stolen bliss, possess- 
ing the exclusive art and necromancy of her sex to 
attract and control men and who lived after the fash- 
ion of her own selfishness — a skeleton pigmy in the 
church — a mournful and melancholy illustration of 
stranded worldliness — relaxed her hold upon the men- 
tal and spiritual sensibilities of time. 

If it were left to the human will, the long line of 
fatalities would end here and have their sombre shad- 
ows kissed away by the lips of love. But again the in- 
terposition of Supreme Fate arraigns man betore the 
inevitable, where he is destined to live in the gloom 
of what “might have been,” as he sees with sorrowful 
eyes the last straw of hope burned on the altar of an 
ill-spent life — the wrathful visitation of God’s dis- 
pleasure. 

The fibre of superstition, the half prophetic, half 
illuminating symbols and psychological mysteries in- 
terwoven into the meshes of realism all end, and are of 
no more importance than the wild dreams and fancies 
of an over-sensitive and outraged conscience. 

The anomalies of the human mind are no less un- 
derstood than the gigantic oak, a sleeping embryo in 
the tiny acorn. 

It is well that finite vision is scarcely reflected 
across the horizon of to-day, for who would meddle 
with futurity if by the increased intelligence the mis- 
fortune of to-morrow could be averted. The human 
body suffering from a chronic infection may have in- 
termittent moments of relief from the encroaching 
bacteria but the extermination and the full restoration 
of health will be difficult. So much so, when perma- 
nent recovery is assured the slightest provocation may 
cause a return of the retreating malady. The aberra- 
tion 01 the mental or moral sensibilities will be found 
no less intractable. We have no love for the 
speculative theories that endeavor to explain the 
incomprehensible manifestations of the human mind ; 


IS MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 29I 

there is a boundary wall around the occult sciences 
too high and too thick for human brain to demolish. 

We rejoice that our obligations cease with the 
simple office ot stating facts — we should say strange 
facts — for we don’t remember to have ever seen any- 
thing so strikingly singular as the incident we are 
about to relate. . 

Twenty years have anchored on the bosom of time 
and no festive marriage bells have been heard at 
Rosedale. Two ebony caskets have been filled with 
the precious dead ; the aged uncle and the devoted 
husband are no more. Sad heart — word of no mean- 
ing — when the bereaved wife dwells on the bitter 
and unforgiven past, but even then the painful reveries 
cease when Master Raymond and little Lois come 
and stand at her side. As she looks into their lustrous 
eyes, she sees the image of father and mother reflected, 
and it is then her calm face — aglow with smiles of bliss- 
ful meditation — is the beautiful index to a rapturous 
heart that knows inarrlage is not a failure. 

******** 

It is one of those serene moments between fading 
twilight and absolute darkness. The sombre shadows 
are creeping over the hills ; the heavy breathing of a 
distant train and the hoarse shriek of a departing 
steamboat supplemented with the rumbling pulsations 
of the city break upon the solitude and monotony of the 
melancholy hour. The children are weary with the 
day’s romping andhave fallen asleep on their couches. 
The mother is sitting on the western balcony watch- 
ing the sable wings of darkness close over the white 
shaft that marks the resting place of the entombed 
husband. The hopeless longing of the dark eyes, the 
white, furrowed face, and the snowy hair tell a tale 
of endless woe. Her companions are only two ; one, 
an elderly man with the frost and sorrow of many 
winters bleaching his hair ; the other a woman, appa- 
rently twenty-and-five summers old ; owing to the 
striking resemblance to the elder lady she would pass 


[S MARRIAGE A FAILURE? 


292 

for her daughter. The veil of darkness is thickening. 

••There has been no change since — ” 

“No,” he said anticipating what she wished to 

say. 

“Will her face never grow old?” 

“Never,” he said sorrowfully. 

“And what will become of her ? we can’t live 
much longer. She is like something embalmed. Oh, 
God ! could I live with her.” 

The young lady never turned her dark head. 
There is something remarkably thrilling and interest- 
ing in the cold placidity of the monotonous face, — we 
say monotonous because it is always the same. The 
changeless expression, the hungry, vacant and empty 
intentness of her eyes ; the marble whiteness and still- 
ness of the broad classic forehead, had withstood the 
mutations of time for twenty years without a solitary 
alteration. The old man lives and breathes in the 
presence of this cold, canny mystery — the impersona- 
tion of a living death ; this inflexible, expressionless 
and mechanical woman is the light and hope of his 
heart. For hours at a time he studies the dark eyes 
for some faint glimmer of returning intelligence, but 
none ever comes. He loves her, she is the concentra- 
tion of all his energy. All hope, all ambition, all ado- 
ration fall blighted at her feet ; and he continues to 
live in the gloom and shadow of her geometrical 
outlines. 

THE END. 


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